Planning For Contingencies
by bandgirlz
Summary: Hitsugaya couldn't save her life.  He's determined not to fail her in death.  Soul Society may be the after life, but it's certainly not heaven.  HitsuKarin. ByaRan.  IchiRuki.
1. Not Now

**A/N:** Okay, so I shouldn't start another one when I haven't updated Pedestal in a while, but...who really cares. I can't get this one off my mind, so here it is.

This is set six years after the war with Aizen, and goes AU from the end of the war. That means Ichigo never gets his powers back, and nothing that happens after the war will be represented in this story.

Happy New Year! And please review...

**

* * *

**

**Planning For Contingencies**

**Chapter One: Not Now**

She hadn't been fast enough. The Hollow's claws cut through her skin like it was butter, ripping a hole through her stomach. Karin gasped, holding her hands over the wound, trying uselessly to staunch the flow of blood. In shock, too weak to move, she closed her eyes, waiting for the final blow that would end her life, take her soul.

It didn't come. Instead, she shivered with a sudden chill in the air. A tiny sliver of ice twinkled as it melted on her arm, and she looked up just in time to see the hollow, frozen in a block of ice, crumble apart and dissolve into nothingness.

"Damned nuisance," a deep, vaguely familiar voice complained.

"Tou—," she began, then coughed. She could feel liquid filling her lungs, and it was getting harder to breathe. "Toushirou."

He turned around, and those incredible blue-green eyes went wide with shock. "Kurosaki Karin!"

He was by her side in minutes, holding his haori over the gaping hole in her stomach and pressing down, hard. He mumbled a few words and a green light enveloped her, attempted to heal her.

She shook her head. It didn't really hurt any more. Everything was starting to get those fuzzy edges around it, like she was watching an old movie or looking through a frosted window.

"There's too much damage," she heard him say through her daze. "Hold on, Karin, I'm going to take you to Inoue."

He scooped her up in his arms, and she screamed as the movement jarred her wound.

"Shit," he cursed, starting to gently set her back down. "I'll have to bring her to you. You have to hold on!"

"D-don't," she whispered, grabbing his sleeve. "Don't leave, Toushirou! I don't want to die alone!"

"Shhh. You're not going to die!"

She coughed again, almost choking on her own blood. "Just because you say it doesn't make it true." She tugged on his arm, bringing him back to her. His eyes studied hers for a minute, and he conceded. He laid her head in his lap, and she intertwined their fingers. She'd always wanted to be this close to him.

"I was too late," he said, regret in his eyes. "I should have been faster. I should have gotten here sooner. I'm sorry, Karin."

She rolled her eyes. "You're not God, Toushirou, no matter how strong you are. You saved me from having my soul eaten by a hollow, you're going to be here to send me to soul society so it doesn't happen again, what more do you want?" She paused. "How do you look the same, by the way? It's been six years!"

He seemed to understand her need to talk about something else. "I'm not human, remember? You've grown, though."

Karin blushed. Even though he hadn't said it suggestively and her life's blood was flowing out of her as they spoke, she was still all too aware of his hand on her stomach, only inches away from her newly developed bust. Not that she was going to have a chance to take advantage of it.

They lapsed into silence for a few moments. Her body was becoming more and more numb, her breathing more and more labored. His strong fingers gripped hers, letting her know he was there, that he wasn't going to let go. "Toushirou?"

"Hmm?" he asked, idly stroking her palm.

"Is soul society a nice place?"

"It can be," he said after a moment. "But it can also be a scary place. It's not heaven, Karin. And there are plenty of bad people there who didn't do anything horrible enough to end up in hell."

"Oh." Well, at least he hadn't lied. "You should have lied."

"It's going to be ok—"

"I'm not going to make it, Toushirou. I'm dying!" she hissed, coughing again.

"I know."

"Oh. Then, what—"

"After . . . that . . . happens, I'm going to perform a konso on you. That's how you'll get to soul society." He gave up on stopping the blood flow, moving his free hand to brush her hair out of her face instead.

"Okay," she whispered, leaning into his touch.

"I have no idea where you'll appear. Wherever you do, just start walking. Walk to the lowest number district you can get to. If you're in a district over twenty, don't trust anyone, don't talk to anyone, and don't stop to rest. Just keep walking. Do you understand?"

She nodded, but his voice was starting to sound all distorted and far away.

"Once you get to the first district, you'll see the gates around the Seireitei. Now, this is very important. Make sure you approach the Seireitei from the west side! You need to get to the west gate, and to Jidanbou, the west gate keeper. Tell him your name, and tell him you're a friend of mine. Ask him to pass a message to me. Got it?"

"Hmmm?" His voice was so soothing. She was cold.

"Karin! You have to—"

"Just shut up and hold me," she whispered, snuggling deeper into his arms.

Then everything went dark.

* * *

Toushirou felt it when her soul left her body, would have known even if her soul form hadn't tapped him on the arm.

"Man, this is weird," she said, looking down at herself.

He turned her so she wasn't facing her own body, wrapped her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Karin. I better send you to soul society now."

"You have to tell Ichi-nii for me," she demanded, crossing her arms. "I know you guys have a way so that people can see you when they usually can't. You have to go to him. You can't just let him find my body."

Toushirou rolled his eyes. Like he hadn't been planning to already? "I will. Now, listen. You have to remember what I said. Stay out of the high-numbered districts, approach the Seireitei from the west side, give a message to Jidanbou. We'll be looking for you, but we could look for a hundred years and not find you. You have to find us, okay!" He gave her shoulders a little shake.

She glanced at him, dazed. "I-I'm dead."

"Karin! Did you hear me? Do you understand?"

"Y-yeah, geez, I understand. This is too weird, can I just go now?"

Toushirou nodded. Pulling out Hyourinmaru, he placed the butt of the zanpaktou to her forehead and pressed. "Goodbye, Kurosaki Karin."

A hell butterfly appeared, and she was gone.

He wondered if she'd heard a word he'd said.

* * *

Toushirou paced back and forth outside the Kurosaki clinic. Should he knock on the door? Should he just go through Kurosaki's window, like he used to? He paced until the door opened and Kurosaki Ichigo smacked right into him.

"Sorry, I didn't see y—Toushirou!"

Toushirou felt his hackles rise, but he ignored them. This wasn't the time. "Kurosaki Ichigo," he said, greeting the orange-haired teen. "I need to speak with you."

"What are you doing here? And in a gigai!" His face flipped from excited to serious in an instant. "What's happened? Is Soul Society in trouble? Is it Rukia?"

Toushirou shook his head. "Let's go somewhere private, and I'll explain."

He followed the teen up to his room. It hadn't changed much, although he didn't see the annoying stuffed animal anywhere in sight. He wondered whether Rukia had taken it back to Soul Society. Or maybe it was with Urahara Kisuke.

"Well?" Kurosaki demanded, flopping down on his bed. "Tell me!"

Hitsugaya propped himself on the windowsill, his favorite position. Closing his eyes, he just blurted it out. "I just performed a konso on your sister. I'm sorry, Kurosaki. She had a run-in with a hollow, and I didn't get there in time."

Ichigo started, but the smile didn't leave his face. "What? Yuzu's downstairs."

"Karin."

"Karin?"

"Karin."

Ichigo's eyes went wide, like the thought that it could be her had never crossed his mind. "But . . . she can see them. She'd never . . . ." he trailed off. "Why didn't she run?"

Toushirou sighed. "There were children around. I think she was trying to protect them, even though she wasn't strong enough. She's your sister, after all."

Ichigo buried his face in a pillow. "I think I need to be alone right now," he mumbled, voice breaking at the end.

Toushirou started to step out of the window. He paused. "I'm going to find her, Kurosaki. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Toushirou."

"I never do."


	2. Dead!

**Chapter Two: Dead!**

She woke up on the bank of a shallow river. _Where am I?_, she thought, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Funny, she didn't remember lying down.

"Did you just get here?"

She turned her head and saw a young woman next to her, washing clothes in the river. She looked older, maybe in her early twenties or so, and wore her long brown hair in a messy bun.

"Y-yeah, I think so."

"Welcome! I'm Kimura Miu. What's your name?" the woman squealed, hugging her tight.

"I-I don't know," she said, realizing it was true. She couldn't remember anything before waking up. "I don't know who I am!"

"Aww, you poor dear, you're still dazed. It will wear off and you'll remember everything, I'm almost certain. Most people here do!"

"M-most?" And why couldn't she stop stuttering? She didn't know her own name, but she knew stuttering pissed her off. "Where is here?" she asked, switching to a more comfortable, no-nonsense tone. She looked around, seeing mountains in the distance, and what looked like a village off to her right. She didn't recognize any of it.

"Toukawa, the third district in North Rukongai."

"Toukawa," she repeated, wondering why the first part of that name sounded so right on her tongue. "Tou—Tou—Toushirou!" His face appeared in her mind, wild white hair and piercing blue-green eyes. She remembered. Then the grief hit. She was dead. This was Soul Society.

"I'm Kurosaki Karin," she blurted out. "I need to find a Shinigami! Can you point me in the right direction?"

"Shinigami?" Miu repeated, sounding confused. "Oh, you're looking for the one who sent you here! You'll never see him again, no one ever does. But don't worry, Shinigami mostly mean trouble anyway. Why don't you come with me and get some water?"

Karin started to protest, but she was thirsty, and she could always try to explain again later, or ask someone else. "I guess that's okay," she said. Her stomach growled. "Some food would be good, too, if it's not too much trouble."

"Food?" the woman repeated again, this time giving her a strange look. "Souls don't need to eat. You must have been hungry when you died, and still remembering the feeling. Never mind, I'm sure it will pass! Come on, follow me!" she called, leading Karin away from the river and toward the residential part of the district.

The streets were narrow, the houses small, more huts, really, but the streets were relatively clean and the people looked nice enough. Karin remembered Toushirou saying that the higher numbered the district, the more dangerous. It seemed she'd been lucky. Well, as lucky as a seventeen year-old dead girl could be.

_Snap out of it, Kurosaki._ As she began to pay more attention to her surroundings and tune back in to Miu's constant chatter, she noticed something . . . off. There were no power lines. No doors, just curtains over the windows and doorways. She sure wasn't in Kansas any more.

Granted, she'd never really been allowed to ask much about Soul Society, but she would've thought someone would've mentioned that it was stuck in the past! And not the golden oldies past, either.

"Welcome to my humble abode!" Miu exclaimed, throwing back the curtain on a small, but well-maintained hut. "Honey, I'm home! And I brought company!" she called as she led Karin into the residence.

It was all one big room, with rolled up futons on one end, and a giant hearth on the other. Before the hearth sat a scraggly looking man carving a wooden figure.

"Karin, this is my husband, Gorou. Honey, this is Karin. We met at the river. She just arrived!"

Gorou grunted, and went back to his wood carving.

"Nice to meet you," Karin said, even though she really wanted to stomp her foot and demand that the man stop being so rude. Years of Yuzu's teachings didn't just disappear overnight.

_Oh, God, poor Yuzu. And Ichigo. And Dad._ She clamped down on that line of thought immediately. Living in the past got you nowhere. All she could do was focus on the here and now, her immediate goal: get to Toushirou. She gratefully accepted the water Miu gave her, as well as the offer to spend the night. But all the while, she was planning.

She never did get any food.

* * *

"Karin-chan, you're not really serious about doing this, are you?" Miu asked, jogging after Karin as she marched on toward the lower numbered districts.

"Yes, Miu, for the hundredth time, I am!" she snapped. She felt bad for yelling at the girl, but patience wasn't really her virtue of choice. And Miu had been asking the same question every five minutes for _hours_.

"But Shinigami are dangerous! They can't be trusted. Besides, they bury hundreds of souls, thousands! What makes you think this Shinigami will care about you, or even remember you?"

She sighed. "Miu, I'm going! My mind is set. I know you don't understand, but this is something I have to do. I appreciate your kindness in coming along, but it's really not necessary, and in fact, it's counterproductive if you're just going to keep distracting me with the same questions over and over again!"

Miu got quiet. "I'm sorry, Karin. I know this is important to you, for whatever reason. But it's so far to travel, just to be disappointed. And that's if they don't kill you just for being arrogant enough to seek them out in the first place!"

"Ah, give up on making her see reason, Miu," Gorou interrupted, crossing his arms and giving Karin a look of contempt. "She's just not capable of it. So let's just follow her quickly so we can all be home by nightfall. Three days from now," he added snarkily.

Karin whirled on him. "Why did you come, anyway? You're welcome to turn back now, and you can be home by noon!"

He snorted. "Yeah, right. Miu's not going to let you go alone, and there's no way in hell I'm going to let two defenseless women wander all across the Rukongai unaccompanied. You know what would happen to you two if I wasn't with you? I don't need that on my conscience, thank you very much."

"At least we'd have some peace and quiet," Karin muttered, rolling her eyes. Like hell, she was defenseless. She might not be a Shinigami or able to defeat every Hollow she came across, but she could certainly take on a man or two and come out ahead.

They walked for hours upon hours upon hours. It wasn't long before Miu switched from badgering Karin to placating her husband and apologizing for causing him trouble. He snarked, she apologized, Karin seethed.

And then they rounded a bend and caught their first view of the Seireitei. And all of Karin's troubles were forgotten. "Toushirou," she whispered, balling her hands into fists and charging forward.

"Wait, Karin-chan, it could be dangerous!"

"Then stay back! I'll pass a message to you once I get inside," she called back.

The gate was enormous. She paused to marvel at it, then realized that no one was going in or out of it. In fact, none of the villagers went anywhere near the gate; they remained at least twenty feet back from the perimeter, and didn't even look in that direction. _Why not?_

It didn't matter. She had to get in. But she walked forward more slowly than before, and kept her guard up. So she only jumped a little when the ground shook and a giant appeared in front of her.

"Who goes there? What business have you with the Seireitei?" he roared, glowering down at her from 25 feet above her head.

No kidding. He really was a giant. He was about 30 feet tall, and that was hunched over. He had dark skin, white eyebrows, bulging muscles, and a tattoo in a leaflike pattern on his bald head.

"I-I'm K-Kurosaki Karin!" she managed, then realized she was stuttering again. Kurosakis don't stutter. "I'm looking for a—" she broke off, trying to remember, "—a Jibou! Are you Jibou?"

"I am Danzoumaru, Guardian of the Black Ridge Gate! I know no Jibou. I ask again, what business do you have with the Seireitei?"

She gulped. Either Jibou was on a break, or she was at the wrong gate. Or she had completely screwed up, and Jibou wasn't the guy's name at all.

"If you have no business here, begone!" the guardian yelled, drawing a sword that was three times Karin's size.

She began backing away instinctively. "Please," she begged, trying again. "I'm looking for Toushirou! He's a Shinigami, an important one, and he told me to come to the gate and ask the guardian to pass on a message to him, only I think I'm at the wrong gate, because the guardian was supposed to be Jibou!"

The giant paused in the act of raising his sword. "Toushirou? Jibou? I know none of these people! Non-Shinigami are only allowed to enter the Seireitei to attend the Academy, and the semester has already started. Come back next fall, or not at all! Now begone!"

Danzoumaru raised his sword and started to swing it toward her.

She scrambled backward and tripping over a rock, falling to the ground. The sword was getting closer and closer, and she had no way to block it. "Don't!" she screamed, shutting her eyes tight and waiting for the agony of being sliced in two.

It never came. Instead she heard the unmistakable clang of metal on metal. "Toushirou?" she whispered, opening her eyes. The first thing she saw was a white haori billowing in the wind. Her heart jumped into her throat.

But then she realized it wasn't him. The kanji on the haori said two, not ten, and it was worn by a petite dark haired woman, not a white-haired boy.

"What the hell is going on out here?" the woman demanded in a shrill voice as she lowered her weapon and glared Danzoumaru into lowering hers. "Since when do we kill villagers who come up to the gate? Did she attack you?"

Karin had the decidedly odd pleasure of watching the giant blush and look away, dragging his toe through the dirt. "No," he mumbled. "But she didn't have any business here, and she wouldn't go away. I was just going to scare her a little."

Yeah, right. He'd been ready to kill her, and they both knew it. Karin glared at him, about to set things straight, when the woman in the haori turned on her.

"And you! What were you thinking, daring to approach the Seireitei without a legitimate reason? It would serve you right if he did kill you!"

Karin blanched, then scrambled to defend herself. "But I did have a legitimate reason! Toushirou sent me, I was supposed to ask the guardian to pass a message for me. But Danzoumaru didn't know him. Maybe you know him?"

The dark-haired woman's eyes narrowed, and she took a step toward Karin.

"He dresses like you—" she started to say, but a hand clamping over her mouth shut her up.

"My apologies, taichou!" Miu said, bowing down and forcing Karin's head with her. "My friend is new to Soul Society and does not understand how things work. She was looking for the Shinigami who sent her here. She meant no harm, honest!"

Karin glared, struggling to get away and clarify that Toushirou was a lot more than just the _Shinigami who sent her there_, but Miu's grip was strong.

"Hmmm," the taichou said finally. "Like the Shinigami you're looking for would even remember you! You," she gestured to Miu, "See that you teach her the ropes and not to go running off to her second death. And you," she continued, turning to Karin, "If I ever see you at the gate again, you'll be killed on sight."

With a swirl of white, the woman turned around and disappeared.

Karin allowing Miu to pull her back to the village and safety. "How did you know she was a taichou?" she asked, staring at the spot the woman used to be. "Do you know her?"

"Her haori," Miu responded, still dragging her back the way they'd come. "Only taichou are allowed to wear haori like that. But who cares, Karin-chan, how could you be so stupid? _Never_ argue with a gate guardian or a Shinigami! If you see them, get out of sight, and if they stop to look at you, _run_! I told you, they're nothing but trouble!"

Karin shrugged out of her grasp and ignored her last statement. "Toushirou wears a haori like that. He must be a taichou, too. I'll bet that woman knew him!"

_If only I could remember his last name!_

But even if she remembered, she couldn't go back to the gate now. Not after that warning.

_I really thought I could find him. He's in there, I know it, and I just can't get to him!_ But maybe everyone was right. Maybe he'd just told her that to make her feel better, maybe he didn't really want her to find him at all.

Head down, arms crossed, she let Miu lead her back to Toukawa, trying without much luck to tune out Gorou's I-told-you-so's all the way.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Okay, depressing ending. Sorry. But things will look up.**

**A note on OCs: there will be a few of them in the story; I haven't decided if there will be any more than Miu and Gorou yet. But don't worry, they play a minor role, and they're only there for necessity's sake. We don't know anyone in the Rukongai, really, and I couldn't just have Karin fall in with Toushirou's granny or the Shibas. Where's the challenge in that? It's still a HitsuKarin fic, and the story centers around them, not the OCs. Whew, glad that's out of the way.**

**I hope you enjoyed it, and please review!**

**Also, if you read A Fukutaichou's Duty at all, I just uploaded the other half of that, so it's complete. Check it out!**

**~bandgirlz~**


	3. A Drop in the Ocean

**Chapter Three: A Drop in the Ocean**

Failure didn't sit well with Karin. She'd had a goal, she'd made a plan, she'd acted on it. Usually she'd be sitting pretty with her goal accomplished right now, laughing down at the fools who didn't understand how easy it was to get what you wanted.

So what went wrong? She'd made some fatal error, some strategical misstep, some flaw in the execution of her plan, _something_ that had her stuck, miserably, in the dregs of daily life in the Rukongai with Princess Bubbles and Captain Holier Than Thou.

Truthfully, she was lucky Miu and Gorou let her stay with them at all. She felt slightly guilty that she couldn't dredge up more gratitude, but it turned out she didn't need to. Less than a week went by before Miu approached her.

"Karin-chan? How are you feeling?"

Karin shrugged. She prided herself on being tough, and tough people didn't get depressed. But she certainly wasn't happy. "I'm fine. What's up?"

The girl—and despite Miu's age, her wide-eyed naiveté made it difficult for Karin to see her as anything more than a girl—looked away nervously. "We need to talk about your plans going forward."

Karin sighed. She'd done nothing but think of plans for days. But somehow, she didn't think that was what Miu was referring to. "What do you mean?"

Miu sat down on the porch next to her, staring at her bare feet dangling above the dusty road. "Gorou has four brothers. They're all good men. Strong providers, fairly honorable. They bathe regularly." She smirked, oddly pensive. "That's really all a woman can expect of a man in this life, I'm afraid. But any one of them would be lucky to have you."

"I—I'm not really ready for a relationship right now, Miu, but, um, thanks," she replied, confused.

"Well, whether you're ready or not, there aren't many choices in Toukawa for a girl your age. You're too old to be adopted, and women without protecters get taken advantage of, even in this district. Marriage is your only option."

Regret swamped Karin, and she wondered if maybe she'd been a tad too judgmental of her hostess. "Is that why you stay with him?" she whispered, gesturing to Gorou, who was too far away to be listening.

"He's a good man. Maybe a bit proud, definitely a bit lazy, but he holds down a job and he's never hit me. He doesn't sleep around, he doesn't drink too much, he doesn't go out looking for trouble. I'm lucky to have him," Miu said, her smile sad but true.

A memory surfaced, a familiar voice rang in her ears. _Soul Society may be the afterlife, but it's not heaven_. Anger rolled through her, irrational but fierce. _I don't want your luck._ She shook her head. "I'm only seventeen. There's got to be another way! Can't I just stay here with you?"

Miu was all regret. "I'm sorry. I wish you could, but we don't have the room or the money. And, um—" she broke off as tears came to her eyes and she rested a shaky hand on her belly. "Both of those are going to be in short supply pretty soon."

Karin's eyes flickered from Miu's stomach to her face. "Oh. Oh, God! Congratulations!" But the words were empty.

"Thank you. Children are a gift. The timing could be better, but I've always wanted a little girl."

Was it just her, or was that response a little too practiced? But it wasn't Karin's place to intrude. After all, they'd only known each other a few days. Who was she to keep throwing Miu out of her carefully crafted delusions, forcing her to get real and acknowledge her own misery? At that moment, she knew that Miu was stronger than she would ever be.

And very, very broken.

Karin couldn't do it. She couldn't become this half-empty shell of a human being, even if it meant her own survival. "There's got to be another way," she said again. "Maybe there's someone else I can stay with? Another couple with more room? Why does it have to be marriage?"

Miu snorted. "You're expensive, honey, especially with that food you insist on eating. No one's going to take care of you unless they're getting something out of it."

Oh, _ew_. "Then I'll get a job!"

"You don't have any skills. You don't sew, you don't wash, you don't even clean well! All you do is kick that ball around all day. Face it, you don't have any other options. But hey," she added, sliding back behind her bubbly façade and squeezing Karin's shoulders, "marriage isn't so bad! You'll get to have a wedding and everything, and if you marry one of my husband's brothers, we'll be family! This is so exciting!"

Karin gave Miu a half-hearted smile, hearing her plan the details and describe the eligible men in the area, but not really listening. Karin was going over her plans again, searching for her mistake, the same thing she'd been doing with every heartbeat since The Failure. But this time, with more urgency.

She wasn't going to end up like Miu. Married and pregnant and beaten down by the afterlife. Trapped. She was going to find her mistake, she was going to fix it, and then she was going to try again.

And either she'd find Toushirou, or she'd go out in a blaze of glory.

Kurosakis didn't do broken.

* * *

Toushirou stood on top of the White Way Gate, looking out on the sunset over West Rukongai.

It had been too long. Nearly a month, and she hadn't turned up. He was driving Jidanbou crazy with his constant reminders to be on the lookout, spending every spare moment scouring West Rukongai for her, neglecting even his paperwork to spend more time searching. He always centered his search on the 1st district, steadfast in his belief that she was heading that way. But he had to face reality. With each day she didn't appear, with every person he spoke to who hadn't caught sight of her, he was forced to accept the likelihood that she hadn't been listening, hadn't been paying attention. Either that, or she had no intention of coming to find him at all.

Rukongai wasn't a friendly place, even to those who could find a way to belong. He could only imagine what she would be forced to do to survive. He owed Kurosaki, had promised to protect his sister. Strike that, he couldn't put this down to duty once removed. He wanted to protect Karin for himself, because she was special and full of life and unintimidated by him and almost, almost a friend. Toushirou didn't have many friends, but he would protect the ones he had.

"Taichou!"

He jumped, cursing the inattention that had allowed his fukutaichou to catch him unaware. "Matsumoto," he replied, glancing up at her. "I was just catching some air. What do you need?"

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "Save it, Taichou! I know exactly what you're doing, what you've been doing for _weeks_ now—"

"I can explain," he interrupted, going pale. "I know it looks bad, but—"

"How could you leave me out of this?" she screeched. "Ichigo's sister dies, and you look for her _yourself_? Why haven't you asked for my help?"

He glanced away, feeling uncomfortable. "How could I ask? I shouldn't be doing this at all. We lead souls here and then let them be, that's how it's always been. If I'm found out . . . ." He trailed off, sighing and running a hand through his already unsalvageable hair. "If I go down for this, I can't let you go down with me."

Matsumoto just laughed at him. "Like I'd let you get in trouble on your own! Even if I didn't know why, I'd just lie and say I was involved anyway." She sobered, piercing him with her stare. "You're my taichou. I'll always have your back."

He shook his head. "Matsumoto, I can't let—"

"Besides, you're not the only one who owes Ichigo," she said, cutting him off. "We don't want anything to happen to his sister, either."

"You—we?" he repeated, turning around. Behind Matsumoto and him, in a line, stood four shinigami he hadn't seen in months.

"Yeah, you didn't think we'd let you be the hero on your own, didja?" Renji drawled, crossing his arms.

"Shut up!" Rukia hissed, smacking him. "What he means to say, Hitsugaya-taichou, is that we want to help, too. Ichigo is . . . very important to some of us," she continued, giving him a small bow.

"You all want to help?" Toushirou asked. "Even you, Madarame, Ayasegawa?"

Madarame shrugged. "We haven't seen much action since the war. Gotta keep busy somehow."

"Oh, you know you just want to help Ichigo's little sister!" Ayasegawa said, smirking. "Ikkaku here just can't help but come to the aid of a damsel in distress!"

"Shut up, Yumi! You're here too, aren't you? What's your reason, then!"

Toushirou closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to tune out the bickering. It was Karakura all over again.

"Sorry, taichou," Matsumoto whispered. "I know they can be a bit much. But they mean well, and they're extra bodies. We have a lot of ground to cover, you know."

He knew he was losing it if _Matsumoto_ was becoming the voice of reason. "I don't think you all understand what kind of a risk you're taking," he protested, but the conviction had left his voice. Giving in was a foregone conclusion.

"You can't do this on your own, taichou. It's already been weeks. Let us help."

He paused, surveying the landscape, spread out before him in all directions as far as the eye could see, crawling with villagers, other lost souls. So many souls.

"Okay."

Heaven help him.

* * *

**A/N:**

Still stalled out on Pedestal. Somehow this is much easier to write than that, probably because I'm less married to it. So, sorry if you're waiting on that. I'm workin' on it, I promise.

Hope you liked the chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last two chapters! Please drop me a line and let me know what you think and that you're still reading—I'd really appreciate it.

~bandgirlz~


	4. Boycott Love

**Chapter Four—Boycott Love**

Karin didn't think she'd make it through one more meet-and-greet with the eligible bachelors in town. She should have chosen a man weeks ago, but she'd been putting it off, finding fault with each and every man presented to her—which wasn't hard, really. They were either dirty, lazy, boring, or chauvinistic, most all of the above. Not to mention disgusting. The day she overheard one of the guys commenting to another that her breasts were too small but her ass was just the right size to grab, she nearly lost the contents of her stomach.

Not that there was much to lose. Gorou had countered her stalling tactics by refusing to feed her. She was left to scrape by with what nuts and berries she could find in the forest, and whatever fish she could catch from the river. A fishing rod would have been nice. Hell, she would have settled for a net. Her current record was Karin 1, Fish 327.

Maybe the near starvation was starting to get to her, but she was beginning to wonder if she shouldn't just choose the best of the men presented to her, settle down, and let the cards fall as they may. Not that she would. But still, she was wondering if it would be so bad. Sure, the guys were gross, but the district wasn't so bad. The scenery was nice, and she had Miu, who was reminding her more and more of Yuzu every day. If she ran off to the Seireitei, she faced death, imprisonment, and two possibilities that kept her up at night. The first, that she would never find Toushirou at all. She'd look and look, until she turned old and gray or died a second time, and never see a trace of him ever again. That one was pretty bad, but the second was worse. The second had her waking up, screaming, haunted and unable to lay back down for hours at a time. It was the possibility that she'd do it, she'd get into the Seireitei, find her way to Toushirou, and he wouldn't want to see her. He wouldn't even _remember_ her, or if he did, he'd just laugh and tell her what Miu, Gorou, that female taichou, hell, everyone she'd met since she'd died had predicted: "I just told you to come find me so you wouldn't feel so scared about dying. You weren't supposed to actually _do_ it." Then he'd shake his head and walk away, ignoring her begs and pleas as they shackled her and threw her in the dungeon. Then she saw him through a little barred window, laughing with his friends. "I played soccer with the kid once, and she thinks I give a damn about her. Pathetic!"

Whenever she had one of those dreams she tried to forget about it, tried to remind herself that it wasn't real, it was just her imagination. The problem was, she knew her imagination was partially right. They'd played a soccer game once. He'd saved her from a hollow. He'd happened to show up when she died and buried her soul. But he had to have saved a thousand people from hollows, buried millions of souls. Besides her brother, what was different about her? And from what she remembered, he didn't even _like_ her brother. So really, what was different about her?

He was a taichou, apparently a rank of epic importance, to hear Miu tell it. He was the strongest of the strong, the deadliest of the deadly, the greatest of the great. He was near-royalty. And she was nobody, just another dead soul in the afterlife. Why would he care what happened to her? She couldn't find an answer.

But at the end of the day, none of it mattered. Because, honestly, she'd rather face death, imprisonment, and her worst nightmare than stay and turn into Miu.

She did have her pride.

And finally, as expected, a teary-eyed Miu gave her an ultimatum.

"If you don't choose a husband tomorrow, Gorou and I will choose one for you. I'm sorry, Karin. I'll try to pick a guy you'll like, I promise!"

Her time had run out. That night she wrapped a blanket around her only possessions: a change of clothes, a few coins she'd made from doing odd jobs, and the last of her food stores. Heaving it over her back, she tiptoed to the door and slipped out into the night.

She didn't leave a note. It wouldn't do them any good to come after her, not that they'd bother. She hadn't stolen anything, and they'd gotten what they wanted—her, out of their hair.

Besides, Gorou's eyes had tracked her the whole time.

* * *

Sneaking into the Seireitei was surprisingly easy. The thing was, no one was expecting stealth. They were expecting an attack, brute force, massive amounts reiatsu. Not two little reiatsu-less kids with a soccer ball. And certainly not Karin, who'd been threatened with death on sight if she ever so much as approached the North Gate again. Only an idiot would return to the same place she'd been caught before.

Or a genius. Because the gate guardian wouldn't be looking her, and he'd just been rebuked for using too much force against small threats. So she gave two little kids her soccer ball and encouraged them to kick it, hard, into the gate. Over and over again. She hid on the other side of the door, and as soon as Danzoumaru rushed out of it, focused solely on the children that were attacking his gate, she slipped in. She knew he wouldn't hurt them—he'd been more shaken by that taichou's threats than she had.

Yep, getting in was easy. Sometimes the best plans were the simplest.

She hadn't counted on the alarm. The moment she set foot on Seireitei soil, she heard a whooping noise. "Alert! Alert! Intruder in the Seireitei! Intruder in the Seireitei! All squads on alert!"

She looked to her right and left and saw groups of Shinigami staring at her. They looked as shocked as she felt. She smiled at them. As one, they reached for their swords. So she did the only thing she could.

She ran like hell.

* * *

"Matsumoto, why is the couch lumpy?" Toushirou demanded, crossing his arms and glaring at his lazy fukutaichou. They were on a rare break from searching Rukongai, and he wanted to take a nap, dammit.

She shrugged. "I don't know, Taichou, maybe you just have a lumpy butt."

Feeling a headache coming on, he lifted up the cushion and, unsurprisingly, pulled out a three-inch-thick stack of paperwork. "Matsumoto! How many times have I told you _not_ to hide the paperwork?" he shouted, massaging his throbbing temple. Why did he put up with her, again?

"Taichou! Always thinking the worst!" she whined, crossing her own arms. "Who said I hid it? Maybe it _fell_—"

The intruder alert cut her off, saving him from hearing the rest of her ridiculous excuse. They both froze, staring at each other.

"Taichou, you don't think—"

He shook his head. "She's not that stupid. Or that strong."

Matsumoto raised her eyebrows. "Her brother was."

He paused, closing his eyes. "Shit." He grabbed his sword and ran out the door, confident his fukutaichou was behind him. She hadn't disappointed him yet—and that was why he put up with her. "Notify the team. When you find her, send a hell butterfly. If something goes wrong . . . ."

"I'll flare my reiatsu. Go, Taichou."

With a reassuring glance at her face, he nodded and flash-stepped toward the First.

Time for some damage control.

* * *

"Well, lookee-lookee what we have here!"

Karin jumped as a burly bald man jumped down off the wall to her right.

"Today's my lucky day!" he said, leering down at her.

Karin took one look at the creep's giant spear, another at his maniacal grin, kicked him in the shin, and ran like hell.

"Ow, _damn it_! Wait!" he screamed.

Karin didn't hesitate, but rounded the corner and ran until she could no longer hear him.

When the coast was clear, she snuck behind a pillar and doubled over, trying desperately to catch her breath.

When her lungs stopped burning, she leaned into the wall and tried to think of a plan. This place was the perfect fortress. She'd been running for hours and couldn't even tell if she was going in circles or not. It was all tall, white walls and identical buildings. What was she going to do?

She felt something behind her, almost like the air itself was moving. It was nothing like a breeze. She turned just in time to see someone in a blue ninja outfit materialize out of thin air. She felt that same feeling to her right, so she ducked low and left, just escaping as countless ninjas materialized in a circle around the spot she'd just been standing in. Ninjas, huh. That was new. Not waiting for them to figure out what had happened to her, she took off running yet again. If anything, the Seireitei was good for building stamina.

She'd just made it to another corner when a familiar voice made her cringe.

"There she is, after her!"

It was the female taichou from before.

Her chances of making it out of there alive just plummeted.

* * *

Toushirou stood in his place at the emergency taichou's meeting trying to keep his foot from tapping impatiently. The Soutaichou had already denied his request to be heard three times, and it was clear that no one knew what was going on and the whole meeting was a waste of time. Time he could be using to find Karin before she got herself killed. If it was really her.

The Soutaichou paused his droning as a hell butterfly landed on his finger. His head snapped up. "Soi Fon-taichou is out tracking the ryoka, which she has identified as a medium-height female, late teens, dark hair, dark eyes. The ryoka seems to be unarmed, and Soi Fon expects to apprehend her shortly. You and your squads will assist in the capture."

Toushirou closed his eyes, relief warring with fear in his head. They had found her—or, rather, she had found them. But the circumstances couldn't be worse.

"Say, Yama-jii, isn't this a lot of fuss over a little girl?" Kyouraku interrupted. He peeked out from under his hat and gave a wide smile. "Can't we just let her run around awhile until she tires herself out? Surely she can't do that much harm without a weapon."

Yamamoto-soutaichou thumped his walking stick on the floor. "No. Little girl or not, unarmed or not, we can't have ryoka running amok in the Seireitei! You will capture her, using force if necessary, and bring her in for questioning! This is a security breach we cannot have!"

Toushirou took a deep breath. "Soutaichou—"

"I don't want to hear it, Hitsugaya-taichou! You can explain to me about your after-work activities _after_ we find the girl! Now, all of you, go!"

* * *

The ninjas were faster than the regular Shinigami. And a whole lot harder to lose. Gasping for breath, Karin weaved through the corridors, confident now that she was, indeed, running in circles. Which was fine, until she came to a dead end.

She whirled around, intending to head back the way she came, when she felt one of those weird air disturbances right in front of her. Unable to stop, she slammed face-first into a human wall.

A very soft, lumpy human wall.

"Karin-chan! I finally found you!" the wall squealed.

Karin opened her eyes, realized what she was staring at, blushed, and backed away. She looked up into a vaguely familiar face. The Shinigami had long, honey blonde hair, blue-gray eyes, and extremely large, um, assets. She had a sudden memory of the woman running toward her and Toushirou, waving like mad. His subordinate. But what was her name?

She closed her eyes, pictured him angry. What was it he had yelled?

"M-matsumoto-san?" she said, giving the woman a wary look.

"You remember!" Matsumoto said, pulling her back in for a hug. "After such a long time, too!"

"Matsumoto-san, we can't stay here! The ninjas—"

"I'm so glad I found you, Taichou's been looking all over for you!" the woman continued, oblivious to Karin's attempts to drag her out of the open. "Let me just send a message to him." She held up her hand for a butterfly to land on her finger.

"Matsumoto-san!"

When the butterfly flew off she grabbed Karin's arm again and started to lead her away. "Now then, let's get you back to the Tenth!"

"Not so fast, Matsumoto-fukutaichou!"

Karin wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like. All surreal and cold, with a fluttery feeling in her chest and the sensation that all of her blood had suddenly slowed and thickened in her veins. Not that bitch again.

"Soi Fon-taichou! I found the ryoka!" Matsumoto chirped, gripping Karin's arm tighter. "I was just about to take her in for questioning!"

So she couldn't be trusted after all. Karin cursed herself for being three times a fool.

"Step away from her, Matsumoto! She's in Special Forces custody now."

"But my taichou gave orders—"

"I'm superseding them. If you have a problem with it, take it up with the Soutaichou."

"But Soi Fon-taichou—"

"Stand _down_, fukutaichou!"

Matsumoto sighed. She dropped her grip on Karin's arm and backed away, but not before whispering, "Sorry, there's nothing I can do. But don't worry, they're just going to put you in a holding cell. Taichou will have you out before you know it!"

Karin wished she could believe that. But as ninjas surrounded her from all sides, cuffed her, and dragged her away, she looked into the eyes of the female taichou—head of the special forces—whatever she was—and all she saw was death.

* * *

**A/N:**

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! It's great motivation for a writer, and it's nice to connect with the people in the massive abyss I'm sending my stories out into. Kind of scary when you think about it... Anyway, things are picking up for Karin and Toushirou now—let me know what you think... (review please!)

P.S: Almost forgot! Thanks to MeteorLeopard for the Ikkaku-meeting idea! I hadn't thought of it, but once you put it in my head...I couldn't resist. Hope you like it!


	5. Unexpected

**Chapter Five: Unexpected**

The moment Toushirou stepped out of the taichou's meeting, two things happened. First, as he was cursing his own lack of foresight—it was evident the Soutaichou knew everything—a hell butterfly landed on his finger. At the same time, a familiar reiatsu burst out like a beacon. Trouble. Ignoring the message, he flash stepped to his fukutaichou's side.

"Matsumoto."

"Taichou! You're so fast!"

"What happened, Matsumoto?"

She flushed, looking embarrassed. Not an emotion he was used to from his shameless fukutaichou. "I'm sorry, Taichou. I had her. But I stopped to send a message, and . . . ."

"Matsumoto, what happened?"

"Soi Fon took her."

He cursed.

"I tried to stop her, but—" she broke off. "I'm sorry Taichou, I backed down. I wasn't strong enough."

He took mercy on the miserable woman. "You did well, Matsumoto," he said, patting her shoulder. "You found her. They didn't hurt her, they just took her. No one could have stopped them from taking her. We just have to get her back."

"Oh, Taichou!" she squealed, hugging him tight enough to cut off his circulation. "You're so sweet."

"Mafffumoofffo!"

He stopped struggling, she let go, and they both froze as a light wafting of reiatsu warned them they were no longer alone.

Eight members of the Special Forces appeared as one, surrounding them. With them was Saskibe Choujirou, who stepped forward. "Juubantai Taichou Hitsugaya Toushirou, Juubantai Fukutaichou Matsumoto Rangiku, the Soutaichou requests your presence. Immediately."

* * *

Toushirou didn't get in trouble very often. He was a responsible man—_not_ a child—and he tended to avoid situations that were (a) irresponsible, and (b) prone to making him feel like a child. So standing in front of the Soutaichou's desk alongside Matsumoto, Madarame, Ayasegawa, Abarai, Kuchiki, Kyouraku, and Ukitake, getting yelled at, didn't exactly make him feel good.

The Soutaichou had hauled them all in, confirmed that he knew exactly what they'd been doing for the past few weeks, and was now busy berating them for overstepping their positions and breaking the unwritten code.

"I ought to throw you all in a holding cell for a month! Matsumoto, Ayasegawa, Abarai, Kuchiki, I've learned to expect this kind of reckless disregard for the rules from you, but Hitsugaya-taichou, Madarame-taichou, you're the worst of the lot! I should be able to expect better from you! Being a taichou means setting a good example, upholding the rules, making the hard decisions, _not_ leading your subordinates astray! I ought to demote you both for this!" he roared.

Toushirou winced. He really wasn't sorry for what he'd done. He was, however, sorry that he'd let the others become involved. He stepped forward. "Please don't blame Madarame or the rest of them, Soutaichou. This is all my fault. It was my idea, and I used my position to influence the others into helping," he lied. "If anyone should lose their position for this, it's me."

"Hmmm, why do I have trouble believing that?" Kyouraku broke in.

"And Shunsui, Juushirou, as for you two—" the Soutaichou broke off, looking confused. "Why are you two here, again? You weren't involved in any of this."

Kyouraku shrugged, while Ukitake scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Well, uh, Yama-jii," Kyouraku said finally, "we would've been involved if we'd known about it. So, uh, we couldn't not be here to speak up for Hitsugaya-taichou and the others."

Ukitake stepped up to Toushirou's side, placing a hand on his shoulder in a show of solidarity Toushirou wasn't sure he appreciated. "We did much worse in our day, Soutaichou."

The Soutaichou scoffed. "You do much worse now."

"And yet you haven't demoted us," Kyouraku added, sharp eyes peering out from under that infernal hat.

Rescued by his elders. How humiliating. Not that he actually wanted to lose his captaincy.

"Fine," Yamamoto huffed, glaring at them all. "I still can't let this go unpunished. Hitsugaya-taichou, you are to be locked in the Tenth Squad holding cell for three days. Stay away from him, Matsumoto-fukutaichou, he is to be treated like any other prisoner. Madarame-taichou, you're going to write up the report on all of this. I want it detailed, I want it long, I want it accurate, and I don't want you to sleep until it's on my desk. As for the rest of you, you're on probation. If you so much as breathe wrong, I'll have you locked in a cell before you draw your zanpaktou."

Locking him in his own cell. That was cold.

Not to mention inconvenient. But it could be worse. He'd just send Matsumoto to—

"And don't any of you even think about interfering with the ryoka's interrogation! If I hear one of you has been anywhere near the Second Squad in the next three days, I'll demote you on the spot!"

Toushirou sighed. He'd spoken too soon.

* * *

Karin huddled in the corner of the stark, barren holding cell, trying not to feel miserable for herself. Being locked up for three days, with no visitors except the ninjas and the taichou who wanted to kill her, was killing her confidence fast. What had she been thinking? Like Toushirou really cared about seeing her? She was here; if he wanted to see her, he could.

Miu had been right. She needed to let go of her delusions and just accept things in Soul Society the way they were. No matter what had happened in the living world, here she was just some random dead soul, and he was a taichou. She'd known he was powerful, known he had subordinates, but she hadn't realized how important he really was—one of the Shinigami elite, and she was just some dumb kid who he'd felt sorry for once and kept trying to protect.

"So you're telling me that you broke into the Seireitei just to find the Shinigami who buried you?" Soi Fon demanded, the shrill voice pulling Karin away from her thoughts. "What even made you think he would want to see you?"

"Yes! Toushirou's a friend of mine!" she snapped, then thought about it. "Well, kind of. He helped me win a soccer game once. Anyway, I know him! And he told me to come find him!" _Didn't he? What were his exact words?_

"_Hitsugaya-taichou_ played soccer with you?" Soi Fon mocked. "I might have believed you if you'd said Kyouraku-taichou, or Ukitake-taichou, but _Hitsugaya_, soccer? Ridiculous!"

"It was a really important game!"

"Oh, I'm sure it was. But this isn't," she snapped, sneering at Karin through the bars of the cell. "You're in a lot of trouble, little girl, and things would go much better for you if you would start telling the truth."

"What makes you think she's not?" The cold, deep voice made her jump.

"Toushirou!" Karin shouted, rushing toward the bars to catch a glance of him. He looked as unflappable as always, glaring into the room with his arms crossed and his haori flowing behind him. A taste of the familiar in her misery. She could have cried just from looking at him. _You really came._

They both ignored her.

"Hitsugaya-taichou, you don't really expect me to believe this story of hers, do you?"

"Frankly, Soi Fon, I don't care what you believe. Are you going to release the girl into my custody or not?"

"Not until someone tells me what's really going on!"

"There's nothing to tell!" Karin burst out, wincing when two glares landed on her. "What? There isn't! Toushirou was there when I died, we'd met before when he helped me in a soccer game, he told me to come find him when I got here, I screwed up and went to the wrong gate, and you know the rest. There's no evil plot, no conspiracy! I'm just an idiot who can't remember directions!"

Soi Fon threw up her hands. "This is getting us nowhere! I'll give you five minutes," she told Toushirou. "If you want any more, you'll have to go to the Soutaichou."

He nodded. "Fine. Thank you."

She just walked off, shaking her head. "Soccer games. Honestly!"

He waited until she was gone, then whirled on Karin. "What, exactly, did you think you were doing?" he shouted, glaring at her. "Breaking into the Seireitei, Kurosaki? Have you lost your mind?"

She bristled. "I didn't know what else to do! They wouldn't pass a message to you! No one would help me!"

"Did you go to the west gate like I told you?"

"Well, no."

"Well that's why! Why didn't you follow instructions?"

"I forgot which gate it was, okay!"

"No, it's not okay! How could you forget? I told you it was _very important_!" he yelled.

_Arggh_, could he be any more unreasonable? "I'm sorry, I guess I was too busy _dying_ to pay close attention! Next time I'm bleeding to death, I'll be sure to listen carefully!"

Toushirou rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry," he said, making a visible effort to calm down. "You're right. I shouldn't be yelling at you. But this little stunt of yours has made things much harder."

"What do you mean?" She'd found him, and he'd wanted her to. What could possibly be wrong? "At least I'm already in the Seireitei. You can get me out of here, right?"

The lack of an immediate response made her twitch. "Right?"

"It's not that simple," he said softly, not meeting her eyes. "Had you stuck to the plan, I could have slipped you in without anyone even noticing. But now you're a criminal and a security threat. It kind of poses a problem, Kurosaki."

Karin sank to the freezing cement floor of the cell, burying her face in her hands. She'd ruined everything. If she'd just been patient, kept from panicking, she could have tried the other gates until she found the right one. But her doubt made her desperate, and desperation made her reckless. Now she was going to die in there, behind bars, cut off from her family and friends and anyone who cared about her and wanted to help her without getting something out of it for themselves. For the first time since she'd died, she broke down. "Ever since I've been here, everything I do just ends up being the wrong thing," she whispered. "I don't understand it here! I just want to go home. I wish I could just go home."

She didn't expect a response. She knew Toushirou, or, Hitsugaya-taichou apparently, would be the last person to offer comfort. She expected him to wait for her to compose herself, to yell at her, at a minimum, to walk away. But as she was slowly learning, she didn't know everything.

"Hey," he prodded, crouching down in front of her. "Pull yourself together. You're a Kurosaki, aren't you?"

She nodded.

"Then what are you worried about? Keeping the Seireitei on its toes is practically a Kurosaki tradition. As is coming out on top."

She met his eyes, their depth entrancing. Their softness . . . unbelievable. "Thanks."

"Just hold on," he said, turning toward the door. "It will all work out."

Did he know just how tightly she was clinging to his words?

* * *

Toushirou stood in front of the Soutaichou's desk for the second time in less than a week. Only this time, he was alone. He hoped that would make things go better.

"Hitsugaya-taichou, do you realize what you are asking? After all we've talked about, after the punishment you've already been given, you want me to _pardon_ the ryoka and allow her to reside with you in the Seireitei?"

He took a deep breath. "Yes, Soutaichou."

"Ludicrous!" The old man declared, slamming his walking stick into the ground.

Toushirou barely managed to hold back his sigh. He'd already been berated for hours and locked in his _own_ cell (that still burned). He was tired of apologizing for something he wasn't sorry for. "Soutaichou, it is nothing more than you have done in the past," he replied, trying to sound reasonable. "She is Kurosaki Ichigo's sister. We accepted him, even after he fought and injured several high-ranking Shinigami, and allowed him free passage in and out of the Seireitei. Besides," he added, "we owe him a debt of gratitude. He sacrificed everything to seal Aizen away! It's because of that sacrifice that he can't be here to ease his sister's entry into Soul Society and protect her. But I can. We owe him that much!"

The Soutaichou would not be persuaded. "The situation is entirely different. Kurosaki Ichigo was a human with Shinigami powers."

"And his sister may well develop those powers! Her reiatsu was immense when she was alive. And Ichigo was not the only one we gave free passage to. Inoue Orihime, Yasutora Sado, and Ishida Uryuu were all humans without Shinigami powers."

"Exactly! They were humans. Living humans we made an exception for. They were special, Hitsugaya. This girl is not. Regardless of her reiatsu level, she is a dead soul. Dead souls have a place in Soul Society, and it is Rukongai! If her reiatsu levels are as high as you say, she should easily qualify for the Shinigami Academy. She can enter the Seireitei that way."

"What about adoption?" Hitsugaya asked, thinking on his feet. "Kuchiki-taichou's wife and her sister were allowed to reside in the Seireitei. Can I not adopt Kurosaki Karin, and bring her to live with me?"

"Impossible! We have never allowed a human soul into the Seireitei as a result of adoption! And do not speak of Kuchiki Rukia. She had already enrolled in the Shinigami Academy. Your girl can do the same!"

Hitsugaya wanted to scream. Must the old man be so stubborn? "The semester has already started. It will be another eight months before the Academy is accepting new entrants! She could be raped or killed in Rukongai before then!"

"Her fate in Rukongai is nothing worse than any other soul's! You have failed to show me how this girl is special. Is she?" The old man's gaze turned calculating. "You've already risked your position over this. Is she important enough for you to make a true sacrifice?"

The Soutaichou didn't ask rhetorical questions. "Yes," Hitsugaya said anyway, seeing her crumpled on the floor of the holding cell, seeing her brother's eyes when he'd told him Karin had died. _I couldn't save her, but I _will_ protect her._

"Good! Then you will marry her."

"Wh-what?" He thought he was prepared for anything. Apparently not.

"Marriage, Hitsugaya-taichou. It is the only way we have ever allowed non-Shinigami dead souls into the Seireitei. Usually it is a benefit reserved to the noble clans, but I suppose we can include the taichou class in that group. The only way your girl can enter the Seireitei immediately is if you marry her."

"B-but she's only seventeen!"

"That is my final offer!" Yamamoto declared, slamming his walking stick down. "Otherwise the ryoka will remain in Second Squad custody until she can be enrolled in the Shinigami Academy. She has proved herself too dangerous to be allowed to roam free in Rukongai. So, what will it be, Hitsugaya-taichou? Will you make the sacrifice?"

Kurosaki Ichigo was going to kill him—if his sister didn't first. But he couldn't leave her in that holding cell. He sighed. "Yes, Soutaichou. I will marry her."

"Excellent! Many happy tidings. I will have the ryoka informed of her fate, and sent immediately to the Kuchiki clan for training in being the wife of a high-ranking official. The wedding will be set for one month hence."

Hitsugaya tried not to gape. "B-but Soutaichou—" Her _fate_? Marrying him was a sentence, now? _Can't I at least _tell_ her?_

"But nothing! That is all, Hitsugaya-taichou. You will see your bride on your wedding day."

Toushirou closed his mouth and walked away. He was still reeling, but he knew from experience that the Soutaichou was done listening and any further argument would be useless. He nearly walked into Matsumoto, who was pacing in the hallway.

"Well?" she demanded, grabbing his shoulders. "How'd it go, Taichou?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Worse."

* * *

**A/N:**

Wow, the last chapter got ten reviews! Thanks so much for reviewing, guys! I wasn't able to swing the replies this time—it's been a long week. But thanks for checking in, and please do so again. I hope you're enjoying the story. Next time . . . Karin v. Kuchiki Elders. Stay tuned!


	6. Breathe In

**Chapter Six: Breathe In**

When Karin was stressed out, she went outside. She'd play soccer, beat up on her guy friends, even just run around. It got her blood pumping, took her outside of her head, reminded her she was alive. Physical activity and the great outdoors were her life. So being trapped in a stone and iron cage while she waited for the rulers of the Seireitei—whoever they were—to decide whether they wanted to kill her or not wasn't exactly ideal. She didn't even have a window to stare out of. Just artificial light, the feel of cold metal pressing in all around her, and a never-ending, torturous silence.

They'd finally given up on interrogating her. Either they actually believed that she wasn't part of some insidious plot to take down the Shinigami, or they didn't think they could get her to tell the "truth." Whatever the reason, no one had been to see her in the hours since Toushirou had left. They'd just left her alone in the quiet to dwell on her mistakes. Mission accomplished. She was so trapped in her own head she'd almost welcome a visit from Soi Fon if it meant a distraction.

And she got her wish, because just then the head of the special forces came striding in. "Your fate has been decided," she declared, smirking. Smirking was a bad sign.

"What do you mean?" Karin shot back, jumping to her feet and rushing toward the woman. "Don't I get a hearing or a trial or something?" It was happening too fast. She was tired of waiting, but she wasn't ready for a—a _fate_. "Where's Toushirou?" she demanded, trying to shake the bars, but mostly shaking herself instead. "He was supposed to come back and get me out of here!"

"_Hitsugaya-taichou_ is unavailable."

_Great timing, Toushirou._ "Well, when can I see him?"

"In about a month."

Something was up. The woman was just too pleased with herself. "Why then?"

Soi Fon's smirk seemed to grow three times wider. "Because that's when you're going to marry him."

"Huh?" Any icy tingle ran down her spine.

"You heard me. For some unfathomable reason, Hitsugaya has agreed to marry you to get you out of this cell. In one month, you're going to be his wife. Living in his house. Sleeping in his bed. Completely under his control. Taichous' wives have no freedom, you know."

Karin rubbed her arms, trying to stave off the panic. The bitch-taichou knew all about her fear of getting married, of being tied down, domesticated. It had been Karin's constant refrain when they asked her what possessed her to break into the Seireitei.

"M-marry Toushirou?" _Out of the frying pan and into the fire._

"Oh, damn, you already told her!" Matsumoto whined, barging into the cellblock. "I wanted to tell her!"

Soi Fon snapped to attention. "Matsumoto-fukutaichou, you're not allowed in this area! Get out, now!"

Matsumoto just grinned. "Ah, but Soi Fon-taichou, the Soutaichou sent me. Can I have some time alone with Karin-chan, please?"

"I don't think—"

"Unless you want to help us plan the wedding? That would be great! Do you think Karin-chan would look better holding pink orchids or red hydrangeas? Oh, and do you know any great cake decorators? Maybe we can get Taichou to make an ice sculpture!" Matsumoto squealed. Then she looked around. "Oh darn, she left." The excitement faded and her grin shifted into a look of concern. "How ya doin', kid?"

Karin could only gape at the genius of it all. "This soutaichou person didn't send you, did they?"

"Nope."

"You're good."

"The best."

"How do you do it?"

Matsumoto shrugged. "They all think I'm an idiot, so they never see it coming. Being underestimated all the time is one of the few things Taichou and I have in common."

The mention of Toushirou made Karin wince, as her situation came rushing back to her. "So it's true? I—we—Toushirou—"

"Pick a noun, honey."

"Marriage?"

"Yep! Isn't it exciting?"

This time the squealing was genuine, and all Karin could do was gape. "It's a disaster!"

The blonde sobered. "Why?"

_Because it's _marriage_!_ She hadn't risked death breaking into the Seireitei _just to get married anyway_! But she couldn't say that. Women were supposed to want to get married, especially to strong, sexy, powerful men like Toushirou. Karin was well aware she was an anomaly. "I'm too young to get married!" she said, instead, searching for some kind of acceptable excuse.

"Back in my day, you'd be an old maid by now!"

"B-but I don't even really know Toushirou!"

Matsumoto shrugged. "So, you'll get to know him. Taichou's super sweet!"

Somehow that wasn't the first adjective that popped into her head. Strong, stoic, intimidating, short-tempered, even. But not sweet.

"You guys are going to be so _cute_ together!"

_But he doesn't even want to marry me. _

If she closed her eyes, tuned out Matsumoto's mindless chatter, she might as well be back in Toukawa with Miu and Gorou. What was the difference? Once again, someone was trying to marry her off, to make decisions about her future without consulting her or even giving her a choice! Was this growing up? Was it just a multi-pack of to-do lists and a handful of somedays? What about her dreams, her goals, her_self_? She saw her life spreading out in front of her, marriage, children, cleaning, keeping house, taking care of her husband's every little need. Did it even matter who it was, whether it was Toushirou or one of Gorou's disgusting brothers or someone she'd never even met? It was all the same: duty, responsibility, sacrifice. She'd always dreamed of a life that meant something, thought that she'd achieve something great, that she'd have adventures and excitement and challenges all over the place.

Instead, it seemed her only challenge would be coping. Keeping it together, not falling apart, pretending that it all mattered. That continuing to exist was somehow better than not.

Karin knew she was being overly dramatic. Of course Toushirou was better than some disgusting guy she'd never met. She'd always found him attractive. From the first moment she'd seen him, locked gazes with him, a spark had lit and she'd just wanted to know what was behind those ocean-colored eyes. But she she still didn't know him very well. He wasn't exactly Mr. Warm and Fuzzy. He was mysterious and cold and hard to get to know, and she could never forget she was ruining his life, too.

She was sure he never would.

"Don't I have some say in this? Can't I at least talk to him about this or something?" she asked, breaking into Matsumoto's monologue about wedding preparations.

The blonde fell silent, running her hands through her hair nervously. "I'm sorry, honey. Taichou's not allowed to see you until the wedding."

"Then . . . do I just sit here for the next month, by myself?" She'd rather die. She'd rather get married _right then_. Anything to cut through the silence.

"Not exactly."

* * *

Toushirou didn't bother to knock this time. He was waiting in the windowsill in his gigai when the former Substitute came home.

Kurosaki Ichigo was dressed all in white, the color of mourning. He looked worn down, tired, as he picked up a portrait of his sister and threw himself onto the bed.

"You'd think death was the end of existence," Toushirou commented as he observed the young man's grief.

Ichigo jumped, eyes darting to the window. "Toushirou! You scared the hell out of me."

"It's Hitsugaya-taichou, to you," he replied, more out of habit than actual annoyance. "You can quit your mourning."

"Wha—?"

"I found your sister."

The hope in those golden eyes was painful to look at.

"Is she all right? When did you find her? Where is she? Can I—"

"Calm down, Kurosaki. She's fine. She's in the Seireitei, probably with the Kuchikis about now, if my timing is right." Toushirou paused, unsure how to explain the rest, wishing he didn't have to tell it. "She takes after you, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"She broke into the Seireitei. Had to be captured by Soi Fon and the special forces. Injured Madarame, too."

Ichigo stared at him. "Are you kidding?"

"Nope."

"Damn." Ichigo started to laugh. "I guess she does take after me. But you said she's okay?"

"She's fine. But Yamamoto wasn't thrilled."

"That old man never could take a joke. What does he want, now?"

"He, uh—" Toushirou broke off, blushing. "He threatened to send her back to Rukongai to fend for herself unless I . . . ," he trailed off, unsure how to put it.

Ichigo's eyes were like daggers now. "Unless you what, Toushirou?" he asked, punching out every syllable.

"Unless I agreed to marry her."

"You _what_?"

Toushirou didn't reply. He hadn't stuttered.

"You can't marry my baby sister, you bastard! If you touch her, I'll—"

"Relax, Kurosaki. I have no intention of 'touching' your baby sister. I told you I'd keep her safe, and I'm going to do it. That's all."

Ichigo sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just stressed out," he said, then snorted. "That's the understatement of the year. I'm stretched to the breaking point here. I got so used to being able to protect everyone, and now, when it really counts, I can't even help my own sister." He looked away. "You know, I never really resented losing my Shinigami powers. It's always seemed like it was worth it. Until now."

Toushirou closed his eyes. There was nothing he could say. Except . . . . "I'll protect her, Kurosaki. Worry about Yuzu, worry about your father, worry about yourself. But don't worry about Karin, because she's going to be just fine."

"I—thank you, Toushirou," Ichigo mumbled. "And forget what I said earlier, okay. Just make her happy, okay. Promise me you'll do whatever it takes to make her happy."

Toushirou smiled, already turning toward window. "I promise," he replied, knowing it was one of the few he would never regret.

As he stepped outside, he heard a groan behind him.

"God, how the hell am I going to explain this to goat face?"

* * *

Kuchiki manor was beautiful, not that she was given much time to explore the grounds. Karin was quickly ushered inside—before someone could come along and see what an embarrassment she was—and taken to a barren room in the back of the manor that seemed a lot like her cell. At least this one had a tiny little window that looked out into a courtyard, or maybe the gardens. It was only a quarter of a meter wide or so, and she had to stand on her tiptoes to see out, but it was certainly better than nothing.

"Come away from there, girl!"

Karin lost her balance, falling to the floor in a heap like the klutz she was. She glanced up through the hair covering her face at the elderly noblewoman standing before her. And it was obvious it was a noblewoman. No one else could pull off that severe of a hairstyle or that particular expression of distaste—not crude enough to be called a sneer, but close.

"I see we'll even have to teach you how to bow properly. Not gracefully—you'll never achieve that. Grace comes with breeding, you see, and can't be taught. You don't have a speck of breeding in you, do you, dear?" she clucked her tongue, looking regretful.

Karin opened her mouth to snap that her breeding was just fine, thank you very much—she was a Kurosaki, and proud of it—when the woman continued.

"Well, we work with what we have. Stand and let me have a look at you. I'm surprised your fiance accepted you at all, but he is a soldier, not a nobleman, so I suppose his tastes are not quite so refined," the woman remarked, circling Karin. "You're not a beauty, by any means, but with the right amount of powder and makeup, I'm sure we can make you presentable enough that you won't be turned away at the altar."

Karin stood, seething now, and glared at the woman. "What exactly is wrong with the way I look? And who do you think you are, saying that kind of stuff to someone? I—"

she didn't see the fan coming until it slapped her across the face, splitting her lip and making her jaw throb.

"Silence, girl, until you're given permission to speak! My, my, lacking in basic etiquette, too, it seems. Bad blood will tell, you know." The woman went on talking to herself as if nothing had happened. Finally finishing her inventory, she turned to Karin with a frown. "Now, I am Kuchiki Chiyo, daughter of the twenty-sixth head of the Kuchiki Clan. You may call me Kuchiki-sama. I have trained generations of young women to become ladies and brides. It is a difficult responsibility, and not one to be taken lightly. You are, without a doubt, the toughest case I have seen in hundreds of years. Your common blood runs true, so I will not be able to make you into a true lady. I will, however, see to it that you become the best you can be and do not shame the Kuchiki name. You will not leave here until you have learned to be silent, humble, obedient, and subservient. Is that understood?"

Karin just glared at her, chest heaving from holding in her rage, and wiped the blood from her lip.

"Good." The woman tossed her a handkerchief. "Welcome to Kuchiki Manor."

* * *

**A/N:**

Thanks for reading! Please review!


	7. Breathe Out

**Chapter Seven: Breathe Out**

Kuchiki manor was not a friendly place. Karin found that out very quickly.

At Kuchiki manor, everything was either expected or forbidden. There were very few gray areas. She was expected to rise with the sun, to dress impeccably, to attend lessons on time, to walk gracefully, to speak softly, to kneel patiently, to serve invisibly, and always, always, to defer to the older, the higher ranked, and the male. She was forbidden to let the sun tint her skin, to speak without being spoken to, to talk back, to play sports of any kind, to ask too many questions, to run around, and to do basically anything she was accustomed to doing.

Needless to say, Karin was not adjusting well. Not that she really cared too much about adjusting, or worried too much about following the rules—they were stupid rules, and Toushirou wasn't going to care whether she had a tan or played soccer or spoke loudly.

But breaking the rules led to punishment. And the punishments weren't exactly pleasant. They had started out as slaps from the old woman's fan, then progressed to missed meals, sleep deprivation, and finally whippings from the guards. And all the while she had to hear the lectures, the insults, the endless predictions of failure and bringing shame to the Kurosaki and Hitsugaya names. And still she rebelled, although in smaller, less obvious ways than she had at first.

But it had been two full weeks. Two full weeks with little sleep and even less food, two full weeks without the tiniest touch of sunlight on her skin. She was exhausted, and hungry, and sore, and so worn down she thought dying again might be a viable option. She knelt on the floor of her room, braced herself for yet another lash from the guard—she couldn't even remember what it was for this time. It never came.

"Give in, child," Kuchiki-sama whispered in her ear, gently brushing her hair from her face. "Do you think it pleases me to see you in such pain? You bring this on yourself. Think of how much happier you would be if you just opened yourself up to try. Think of the honor you could bring to your father's name, think of the honor you will bring to your husband! Do you think he will enjoy beating you like this every time you make a mistake?"

"Toushirou would never—"

"He may not want to, child, but he will. No man can abide a sloppy and disobedient wife."

_He would never_, she repeated to herself over and over, made it her mantra. Kuchiki Manor was getting to her head, seeping into her pores, making her crazy. She couldn't take it any more. "Please," she whispered, the words pouring out of her against her will. "Please stop. I'll behave!"

"Is that a promise?"

"Yes!" she lied, not even sure if she was truly lying. Anything to stop this. Anything for a moment of peace, of silence. She thought back to her time in the cell, when she would have done anything to _break_ the silence. How quickly things changed.

The old woman snapped her fingers, and Karin was released. Instantly, healers ran up to her and began to patch up the stripes on her back. That was one thing she had to give her tormentors—they never let her bleed for long, never left her injured. It was about the pain in the moment, not the wound. Giving in was the opposite.

For three days, she gave her best efforts to follow the rules. For three days, she rose before the sun, said nothing more than please and thank you, knelt for hours with her back straight and her eyes on the floor. And still she was disciplined, now for spilling a drop of tea, for dropping a stitch, for showing her "jealousy" of those who were allowed to go outside.

She tried, honestly tried, for three days before she broke. It was too hard, too much. So many rules. Standards that were impossible to meet. It couldn't hurt to bend a little rule, just for a while, could it? Or so she told herself as she snuck through the halls, making her way outside for the first time since she'd arrived. She finally found the door leading to the gardens and slipped through, sliding the door closed behind her and leaning against it, closing her eyes in relief. The sun warmed her face and she could have cried at the sweetness of the moment. Euphoria overwhelmed her, and she spun around in circles, drunk on the scent of cherry blossoms and the caress of the wind in her hair.

Quiet without silence. Birds chirping, leaves rustling, water tinkling, and no one sighing and telling her she wasn't good enough, wasn't pretty enough, wasn't smart or graceful or talented or anything else that a lady was supposed to be. Wait—water? She looked around and finally spotted a koi pond off to the left. Rushing toward it, she sat on the edge and swirled her fingers in the water. A sense of calm stole through her, easing the tension from her muscles as she fully relaxed for the first time in weeks. No, months. As she watched the fish dart back and forth, content to explore the confines of their dedicated space, she wondered if she could do the same. Could she make it through this? Could she finish the program, marry Toushirou—no, Hitsugaya-taichou—and quietly assume the role of wife and, someday, mother? For once the rebellion in her was suppressed, and she wondered if maybe she could. She wouldn't enjoy it. It wasn't what she wanted, what she needed, what she'd dreamed of for the last seventeen years, but it couldn't be as bad as Kuchiki Manor. Nothing could be as bad as Kuchiki Manor.

"You are not considering stealing those fish, are you?" a crisp voice broke into her thoughts.

She glanced up, dismayed to find that she was no longer alone. A tall male servant stood on the other side of the pond. He wore a simple flowered yukata, belted at the waist, and his ebony hair flowed around his shoulders without adornment. He was too far away for her to see his face. Karin sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Of course not. I'm trapped here, aren't I? Where would I put the fish, in the bathtub? Besides, I've never stolen anything in my life. Why would I start with a fish?"

"Hmm," the man replied, sounding suspicious. He made his way around the pond toward her. "The koi have been disappearing lately. You're sure you've had nothing to do with it?"

"This is the first time I've seen them," Karin said, returning her gaze to the brightly colored fish. "They're beautiful, though. I understand why someone would want to take them. But it wasn't me."

He was right next to her now. She glanced up, surprised that a servant had enough free time to be able to stand and stare at the fish, especially in such a strict and traditional household. She saw his face for the first time, and her jaw clenched as she noticed the slate gray eyes and classic patrician features. He was a Kuchiki for sure. Karin could have cried. With a servant she might have been able to negotiate, but with a nobleman she had no chance. To be forced back inside after such a short time in the sun, she couldn't bear it.

But her recent training took over and she bowed her head to him in respect. "Forgive me, Kuchiki-sama, I didn't realize you were a noble."

"Hmm," he murmured again. She looked up and he was studying her face. "You're here for bridal training, are you not? Do you have permission to be out here?"

Hoping that meant he wasn't going to tell on her, she relaxed and dipped her hand back in the pond, making lazy trails and trying to entice one of the koi to nibble at her fingertips. "No. It's forbidden," she recited, sing-song. "But I haven't been outside in weeks! I'll take the punishment when it comes, but I couldn't stay inside any longer. This is a beautiful garden."

"Thank you. It's mine."

"It's—" It was the private garden of the head of the clan, she'd been told! "Then you're—"

"Kuchiki Byakuya, twenty-eighth head of the Kuchiki Clan and taichou of the Sixth Division."

Karin cursed. She had the worst luck. "Pleased to meet you, Kuchiki-taichou-sama," she whispered.

"I suppose you're Hitsugaya's intended?" he prompted when she didn't offer anything else.

"Yes, sir."

"Your name?"

"Kurosaki Karin, sir."

Recognition sparked in his eyes. "Kurosaki? As in Kurosaki Ichigo?"

She nodded. "He is—was—is my brother," she stuttered, unsure how to refer to the living once one was dead. "You knew him?"

The Kuchiki nodded. "Indeed. I fought against and beside your brother on several occasions. I can confidently say he has no manners, no breeding, and not a shred of grace."

"What is it with you people?" Karin snapped, bristling. "Always going on and on about people not having grace or breeding or manners! If you ask me, you're the ones without any manners!"

He raised an eyebrow at her and she blanched, wondering how many lashes she was going to get for that one and if her back would ever recover. "Sorry, Kuchiki-sama-taichou," she muttered begrudgingly. "That was out of line."

He gave her a curious look. "It's one or the other, you know."

"What is?"

"The honorific. You may call me Kuchiki-taichou or Kuchiki-sama, but you do not combine them like that."

"Oh. I didn't know."

"I surmised as much," he replied, sitting down next to her.

"Let me guess, it's a mark of my poor breeding, isn't it?" she snapped, glaring at him once again. "I come from the same stock as my brother, you know!"

"Hmm." The man didn't take the bait, but remained silent for a long moment. "There is something else you should know about your brother."

"What's that?" she shot back, bracing herself.

"He is a hero."

"He—what?"

"Kurosaki Ichigo is a hero. He saved Soul Society, and perhaps even the world. He is loud, brash, and ill-mannered, it is true. But your brother always stands up for what is right, even when the odds seem impossible. He never gives up." Slate gray eyes burned into hers. "There is worse stock to come from."

Karin gaped at him. "I—thank you."

"I simply speak the truth."

They sat in silence for a little while, staring at the cherry trees.

"You're Rukia's brother, aren't you?" she asked eventually, finally making the connection. "She used to talk about you a lot."

"You know Rukia?" he asked, sounding interested for the first time since she'd met him.

"Yeah! I mean, I haven't seen her since I came here, but I knew her back when I was alive. She was around all the time!" Karin paused, unsure if she should tell him the rest. She shrugged and continued anyway. "I think she used to sleep in Ichi-nii's closet."

A single eyebrow arched. "Really. Tell me more."

She leaned back against the rocks and told him everything she remembered.

* * *

Toushirou looked up at the knock on his office door. "Enter," he called, expecting to see one of his seated officers walk in. He was surprised to see the taichou of the Sixth Division instead.

"Byakuya, what can I do for you? Would you like a cup of tea?" he offered the noble.

"No, thank you. I won't be staying. I met your intended today."

"Karin? How is she?" Toushirou asked. He hadn't heard a word about her since he'd found out he had to marry her. "I hope she's enjoying her stay with you."

"Hmmm," was the only reply. Byakuya narrowed his eyes. "How much do you know about bridal training?"

Toushirou shrugged. "Nothing, really. Why?"

"It has been known to have a . . . transformative effect. Do not expect her to be the same when you see her next."

"Transformative? In what way?"

Byakuya's normally expressionless face turned to stone. "The subject of my visit is your intended, not her training."

Uh-oh. Toushirou winced, wondering what Karin had done now, and what he'd expected to do to make up for it. "You'll have to excuse her, she's not used to the way things work in Soul Society yet."

"I should say not."

"What did she do?"

The uptight noble crossed his arms and turned to face the window. "She insulted me, addressed me improperly, shouted at me, informed me I have no manners, and had the nerve to put her hands in my koi pond," he replied.

_Shit._ "Well?" Toushirou prompted, blustering through. "Why are you telling _me_ this?"

"Do you still intend to marry her?"

"Of course!"

Byakuya met his gaze with serious eyes. "If you change your mind, Hitsugaya, let me know. I would be amenable to taking her off your hands."

Toushirou could only gape at the departing noble's back.

"Well, I'll be damned."

* * *

**A/N:**

Sorry if it's a bit short, this was just too good of a place to end things. But at least this way you got two chapters in one week!

Thanks so much for the reviews! Life has been truly crappy lately, and stressful as hell, and it's really nice to check my email and get all of your great comments and reactions. I really appreciate you taking the time click that button and give feedback, even if it's criticism or just a word or two. Seriously, you guys are great!

Oh, and I have no idea if the honorific thing is true or not. I just liked the idea of them having that exchange. Maybe someone needs to write a ByaKarin after this...?


	8. Seasons of My Life

**A/N:**

In case you haven't noticed, each chapter's title comes from a song that was part of the inspiration for the chapter. This one is from Landslide, which is a song that never fails to make me cry. It's just so beautiful, and so heartfelt, and so much about brokenness and helplessness and strength. Although this isn't quite the situation the song portrays—in some ways, it's exactly the opposite—when I heard the new Glee rendition of it, I couldn't help but use it here. I'm not sure how I feel about the Glee version; Gwyneth Paltrow has a pretty voice, but it lacks the raw passion necessary to do this song justice. Anyway, I suggest the Dixie Chicks' version or the original, with Stevie Nicks.

This chapter was also inspired by the bonus track version of Forever My Father by Go Radio. If you haven't listened to it, or them, go do it. I'll wait. Beautiful.

Okay, now you can read. Preferably while listening to one or both of those songs.

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Seasons of My Life**

After Toushirou left, Ichigo buried his head in his pillow and finally let himself cry. She was safe, and he didn't have to be strong any more. Death wasn't the end—he knew that. He would see her again, someday, guaranteed.

Unless she died again before he did.

Unless one of them lost their memories.

Unless when he died, he still didn't have any reiatsu, and he couldn't get to the Seireitei to find her.

He cried for these possibilities. But mainly, he cried because Karin was safe, and he didn't have to worry about her any more. Miss her, sure. Regret every decision he'd made that left him unable to protect her, sure. Curse fate for his sacrifice and his weakness, sure. But not worry, because Toushirou had her, and if he could trust anyone in the afterlife to protect someone, it was Toushirou.

If he was surprised the young taichou was so willing to help, well, he tried not to think about it.

* * *

Rukia's brother hadn't told on Karin. She'd been able to slip back into her room with none the wiser, and it was the first day of her training that she actually didn't get punished. Karin knew she was pushing her luck, but she started to make the illicit garden trips part of her normal routine. Just for an hour, every few days. It wasn't a compromise, but a survival strategy of sorts. Following the rules all of the time was impossible, and trying was killing her soul. So she'd follow the rules, she'd devote herself to the asinine goal of becoming some silent, personality-less, simpering servant of a "lady" ninety percent of the time, and she'd keep the extra 10% to herself. It wasn't giving up, or failing; it was adaptation, evolution. She didn't have to make herself disappear completely, she just had to condense herself into the tiniest little box, and bury it deep inside her shell. She wasn't broken, like Miu. Just hidden away. Protected. Safe.

And so she devoted herself to her bridal lessons with renewed vigor, exceeding her own imagination at how quiet, emotionless, and deferential she could actually be. She bowed and scraped and knelt in a corner for hours at a time, and once in awhile she escaped to the garden, to watch the koi, to climb a cherry tree, to run around in circles with the wind in her hair. Sometimes the Kuchiki showed up, and they spoke. Or, rather, she did. She regaled him with the boring particulars of her day, reminisced about her life, wondered aloud at the well-being of her friends and family. He let her talk, remaining nonchalant and mostly silent, the perfect outlet for her desperate ramblings. He was stuffy as hell, but he reminded her of someone—she wasn't quite sure who—in a way that comforted her on a fundamental level. She missed him on the days he didn't appear. Regardless, at the end of her hour she stuffed everything back into the box and resumed her quest for invisibility.

And if each time it was harder and harder to relinquish herself, she ignored it. Nothing good could come from thoughts like that.

* * *

Sometime near the start of her fourth and final week of training, her careful balance was thrown when a knock on her door revealed not the elder she was expecting, but a much friendlier Kuchiki.

"Rukia!" she shrieked, surging out of her kneeling position and throwing herself at the poor girl. "What are you doing here?"

"Karin-chan!" she squealed back. "Nii-sama said you were here! I had no idea, or I would have been in to see you sooner!"

Karin pulled away, walking over to the window. "Yeah, well, it happened kind of fast. I'm surprised the story of my breaking and entering and punishment hasn't spread all over the Seireitei by now, though."

"So you _were_ the ryoka? We suspected it, but I still wasn't sure. That was stupid, Karin! You could have been killed!"

Karin rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I knew it was stupid when I did it, but I didn't have a whole lot of choices. But you don't have to worry, Toushirou already read me the riot act, so you don't have to."

"Hitsugaya-taichou did?" Rukia looked thoughtful. "He was looking for you pretty hard, but I never found out why. How do you know him?" She asked, kneeling down on the floor.

Karin joined her, and poured them both tea without really paying attention to what she was doing. Her training was working, evidently. "Byakuya didn't tell you?"

Rukia nearly spit out her sip of tea. She swallowed quickly, then giggled. "You're just like your brother, calling everyone by their first names! You better not do it when they can hear you. Nii-sama and Hitsugaya-taichou are obsessive about things like that."

Karin ignored her. "He misses you, you know," she said quietly. She took a sip from her own cup.

"Who? Hitsugaya-taichou?"

"Ichi-nii."

Rukia sighed, setting the cup down. "I miss him, too."

"So go visit him. I know there are ways."

"It's not that easy," the shinigami whispered, looking down. "Visiting a human, using a gigai without orders . . . someone like me could get in a lot of trouble for something like that."

Karin scoffed. "Toushirou visited him. Or at least he said he would, to tell Ichi-nii that I died."

"Did he? Well, he's a taichou. He can get away with a lot more than I can. And even Hitsugaya-taichou angered the Soutaichou enough to get punished a few weeks ago."

"What?" Karin asked, head snapping up.

"Well, we were all looking for you and we weren't supposed to be. The Soutaichou was ready to demote all of us, but Hitsugaya-taichou jumped in and took the blame. The Soutaichou said he was interfering too much in Rukongai affairs, and had him locked in his own cell, for two or three days, I think." She paused.

Karin sighed, sitting back and hugging her knees to her chest. "I didn't think he was really looking for me." She cursed. "I've caused him so much trouble. And no wonder he left me alone all that time."

"Karin? What's going on? Why would Hitsugaya-taichou be looking for you? When did you even meet him?"

"Back before you guys had that big war, when he was in Karakura town. I thought he was a kid, begged him to help me and my friends win a soccer game."

Rukia gaped at her. "D-did he play?"

Karin smiled, remembering. "Yeah. Well, he kept saying no, and he never came to practice, but he showed up in the middle of the game when we were losing, and took us to victory single-handedly. He let me score the winning goal, but we all knew it was all him. And then a hollow came, a big one, and he saved me from that, too. He's always saving me from things," she said, whispering the last part to herself.

"He's a taichou, it's his job," Rukia declared, trying and failing to sound wise.

"I hadn't seen him since then, hadn't seen any of you guys. You all just left without saying goodbye."

"It was a hard time," Rukia mumbled. "Ichigo was losing his power, and being there when he couldn't even hear us talk was . . . hard."

"You don't think it was hard for him?" Karin shot back. "To be deaf and blind to people he cared about, not even able to see or feel the ghosts he'd seen his whole life? Everything was changing, and you guys just deserted him!"

"It was better that way!" Rukia shouted. "He always wanted a normal life, anyway. _I_ was the one who took that from him, _I_ was the one who couldn't stay focused and almost let all of you die and ended up pulling him into this world that he was never meant to be in yet! _I_ took his childhood away and we all used him, and he had a chance to get that back, so he needed to take it, don't you see! If I'd stayed around, interacted with you or Inoue or Chad or Ishida, Ichigo would have known and he would have spent all of his time trying to contact me, trying to figure out if I was in the room and if every breeze was a Shinigami trying to communicate with him. He needed to look forward, not behind!"

"You were thinking of _him_," Karin realized.

"Of course I was thinking of him! Don't you think I wanted to see him? We all did! We all _did_ see him, we just made sure none of you knew it. There's been a high-level Shinigami in Karakura town at all times for the past six years, making sure no one got hurt and the hollow were taken care of, but we've been careful to be invisible and never go near anyone who can see us. So you see, even if I could get a gigai and go talk to Ichigo, I wouldn't. Whatever pain we all feel from being separated, it's not going to go away from one contact, from one hour spent together. It's better this way."

Karin drank her tea, thinking about what the older girl had said. When she'd been younger, she'd never thought that something that made everyone hurt so much could be the better alternative. But it seemed that sometimes, it was. "Growing up is hard," she whispered to herself. Nothing but bad choices all around, and she had to choose the one that hurt the least.

Rukia was kind enough not to comment. "Anyway, I'm surprised whoever was on watch let you get harmed. What happened?"

Karin blushed. "I was walking through the park on the way to school, and I felt a hollow's presence. I would have ignored it, because I promised Ichi-nii I wouldn't fight them any more, but it was right by a bunch of kids. I couldn't just _leave_ them, and we couldn't all get away, so I distracted it and told them to run. I was no match for it, though. I was too slow, and it caught me."

"The shinigami on watch should have been there! You shouldn't have had to fight it at all!"

"Well, he arrived in time to kill the hollow, but it was too late to save me."

"Who was it? I'm going to speak to his superior!" Rukia snapped.

"Toushirou," Karin replied, smirking.

"O-oh. No wonder."

"Yeah. He tried to go for help, but I wouldn't let him." She shivered. "I didn't want to die alone."

"He stayed with you?" the older girl asked, sounding surprised.

"Yeah. He held me while I died, and then he sent me here. He told me to come find him, but I got the instructions kind of mixed up."

Rukia smiled. "I'm glad he was there for you."

Karin laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah, well, he's paying the price now."

"What do you mean?"

"My punishment involves him, and I'm going to guess it's part of his punishment too. Although that bitch-taichou said he volunteered."

Rukia cocked her head. Then she snorted. "Soi Fon-taichou? Karin, you can't call her that!"

Karin shrugged. It was the truth. "Anyway, so that's the whole story, and why I'm marrying Toushirou."

She found herself engulfed in another hug. "You're marrying Hitsugaya-taichou?" Rukia squealed. "Congratulations! Oh, Karin, I'm sure he must have volunteered! Hitsugaya-taichou is too strong-willed to do something like this if he doesn't really want to, no matter what the Soutaichou threatens."

Her words made Karin feel a little relieved. She hated to think of herself as someone's punishment. But regardless, it didn't really change anything. He was just saving her again, perhaps out of guilt that he hadn't been able to save her last time. Her debt to him was too big to calculate.

Rukia let her go. "You must feel so proud, Karin! Hitsugaya-taichou is one of the smartest, strongest, and most respected shinigami ever! That he would go through all of this to save you, to even _marry_ you . . . it is a great honor."

"I—yes." She was grateful. She _was_. Scared, and depressed, and dreading it, really, but grateful. "I can never repay Toushirou for all he has done for me."

Rukia smiled at her, resolution in her eyes. "You must execute your duties faithfully!" she cried, pumping a fist into the air. "You must be strong, and obedient, and conscientious, and take care of Hitsugaya-taichou's every need. Do him proud, Karin!"

"Y-yeah." No pressure. Despair, thy name is Karin.

They spoke a bit longer before Rukia left her to get some rest, seeing that the big day was only days away. Karin couldn't help thinking about what the older girl had said. Toushirou—no, she really need to get in the habit of thinking of him as _Hitsugaya-taichou_—was really important. And he'd sacrificed so much for her, _was_ sacrificing so much for her. And here she was dreading it all, acting like a spoiled, selfish, ungrateful child. Well, it was time to grow up. So what if she didn't like cooking and cleaning and catering to someone else's every need? So what if she'd promised herself long ago that she'd never become a—a _domestic_? She'd told herself she wasn't made for it, fooled herself into believing that Yuzu had _wanted_ to assume that role after their mother's death, that Yuzu had somehow gotten a gene that she had missed.

Bullshit. Yuzu had seen the need, and she'd sacrificed her own wants and needs and childhood to fill it, to make sure that the family stayed together and was taken care of. She'd grown up, when Karin hadn't been ready to.

Ichigo had grown up, gone to war when he was younger than Karin was now, he'd given away his powers and nearly his life to save the world. Rukia had grown up too, stayed away from Ichigo for his own good when even an idiot could see it was hurting her to do so. They'd all sacrificed themselves for others, like Toushirou had for her. Well, it was Karin's turn. She'd always hoped her sacrifice could be exciting, like her brother's, that it would make her into a hero and give her good stories to tell or make her feel special. She understood now, that that wasn't what a sacrifice was. She wasn't supposed to enjoy it, she wasn't supposed to get something out of it, she was supposed to do it because it was necessary and people were counting on her.

The wedding wasn't the sacrifice; if it was, it was Toushirou's sacrifice to her, because it was helping Karin, not him, keeping her safe and in the Seireitei and out of jail. But the marriage—she would devote herself to him, to fulfilling his every need, to repaying her debt, to making sure she was never a burden to him again. She would do what Rukia said and become the perfect wife, and never, ever complain or let him think that she was less than thrilled at the opportunity to serve him. He was a taichou and her savior and a good man. He deserved better than her, better than her best. He deserved a Kuchiki bride.

* * *

When she went out into the garden the next day, the day before her wedding, Byakuya was waiting for her.

"Kurosaki Karin," he greeted her formally, as was his practice.

"Kuchiki-sama," she replied, bowing. "I hope I am not disturbing you."

If he was surprised by her formality, he hid it well. "Not at all. I was hoping to speak with you. Please, take a seat," he said, gesturing to the rocks in front of the koi pond.

She sat, and he turned away, looking troubled.

"Is there something I can help you with?" she prompted.

"The question is whether I can help you," he replied. "I know that the Soutaichou has made marrying Hitsugaya-taichou into your sentence. Tell me, do you truly wish to wed him?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. "I—"

"Because if you do not," he continued, "there are other options."

"I—What do you mean?"

His expressionless eyes met hers. "If Hitsugaya does not please you, you could become a Kuchiki instead."

As she was sputtering over that, he went on. "But assuming you prefer not to tie yourself to another family at this time, there is another way. The Kuchiki clan has strong ties in the better districts of Rukongai. We could smuggle you out, and find you a safe home."

Hope rose in her chest. It was the perfect solution. Then neither she nor Hitsugaya-taichou would have to make a sacrifice.

"Of course, you will be branded an outlaw, and will likely never be allowed to return to the Seireitei, but assuming you did not attempt to do so, I am sure the Soutaichou would leave you be. Even he thinks twice before angering the Kuchikis."

The hope turned into a rock in the pit of her belly. She'd be putting Byakuya, Rukia, and the entire Kuchiki clan at risk. Besides that, she'd be spitting on the sacrifices Hitsugaya-taichou had already made for her, not to mention the one he was willing to make now. She couldn't run out on him, just leave him at the altar waiting for her like that. He deserved her reverence, not her disrespect.

But her final thought was for herself. If she did this, if she ran away, she could never become a shinigami. She would be an outcast, a shame to her brother and father, who had both fought bravely for Soul Society and sacrificed their own powers for the good of all when the time came. Even if marrying Hitsugaya-taichou meant she could never become a shinigami herself, at least by helping him she was helping the cause that her brother and father had believed so deeply in. She wouldn't put her own fears and desire for freedom over her family, the Kuchikis, and Hitsugaya-taichou. Her resolution from yesterday was the correct one. She was going to grow up, and for once in her life, she was going to put others first.

"Thank you, Kuchiki-sama," she whispered, staring down at the koi in their beautiful cage, "but I am quite content."

He regarded her silently for a moment. "So be it."

He walked away, and she, too, turned back toward the door. The time for dallying, for stealing time, was over. She had a future to prepare.

* * *

**A/N (Redux):**

Next chapter is the wedding! Also, if you're still having trouble updating, replace "property" with "content" in the menu bar. Courtesy of Yemi Hikari. Review please! Now that the alerts are days behind, reviews are becoming sluggish :-( Writers need hugs, d**n it!


	9. Home

_*Extra-long Special Wedding Edition!*_

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Home**

Karin stared at the unfamiliar woman in the mirror. Was that really her? She tried raising her arms, wiggling her fingers, and the reflection did the same. Yep, it was her. Sort of.

The Kuchiki elders had worked on her all morning. First they'd painted her from head to toe with pastes and powders and inks and creams, until her skin glowed an ethereal white, her cheeks a rosy pink, her lips a bright red, her eyes framed with thick black liner and mascara. Then they'd pulled her hair back from her face and piled it high on her head, in loops and twirls adorned with something vaguely horn-like. Finally they'd wrapped her in a shiromuku uchikake, the most beautiful, intricately embroidered white kimono she'd ever seen, made specially for her. The vision in the mirror was a lady. Delicate, dainty, more doll than human, the vision in the mirror was a bride.

Karin was a bride. She tried to superimpose her self-image on the person in the mirror. Where were the tee shirt and shorts, the dirty, bleeding knees, the scuffed elbows and split ends and suntanned skin? Were they hidden? Or were they completely gone.

Kuchiki Chiyo's face appeared in the mirror, and Karin felt a weight on her shoulders as the elder's hands landed on the shoulders of the bride in the mirror.

"Oh, you look so beautiful!" her teacher gushed. "I know I was hard on you child, but I just wanted you to be the best you could be! And look at you now, doing your family proud. You, Kurosaki Karin, are truly a lady."

"Thank you, Kuchiki-sama," Karin replied. She heard the elder leave, mumbling something about accessories, but she didn't look away from her reflection. The bride in the mirror wasn't smiling. Were brides supposed to smile?

She didn't know much about brides or weddings or marriage, to tell the truth. When other girls her age were putting on makeup or mooning over boys or looking at wedding gowns or imagining their perfect day, she was out in a dusty field practicing for the big soccer game. Boys were her friends, not something to be obtained or shown off as prizes. And babies just made her want to back away slowly. So needless to say, she'd never really imagined her wedding day.

But if she had, it wouldn't have been like this. She wouldn't have been alone in a room, being made over by women she'd hardly even met, led by one she definitely didn't like. Instead, Yuzu would have been there, begging to do Karin's hair and paint her nails. Karin would have let her, just this once, and might have actually enjoyed getting pampered while her father pounded on the door, in turn demanding to be let in the room and crying to her mother that his baby was leaving him. Ichi-nii would have kept him out, ever the constant guardian, calling him Goat Face and telling him to grow up while he yelled in to Karin that she'd better hurry up before her groom changed his mind. There would have been laughter and teasing and excitement, and most of all, noise. Except for the year or so after her mom had died, the Kurosaki household had never been silent.

Not like the tomb she was in now. Karin sighed, turning away from the reflection of Someone Else and glancing toward the window. She felt so alone. Never had she needed a connection to nature like she did now. She'd just started to calculate how much trouble she would be in if she snuck out to the garden when the door opened again. She whirled guiltily, then smiled when she saw who it was.

"Rukia!"

"Karin, you look amazing!" the older girl squealed, circling her to get the full effect. They didn't hug, and Karin was glad; she was convinced anything she touched would turn white. "Hitsugaya-taichou is going to fall on the floor!"

Karin gave her a weak smile. Somehow she'd managed to forget about the groom in all of this.

"By the way," Rukia continued, drawing out the words, "when I was out walking earlier, I ran into someone trying to sneak into the manor."

"What?"

Rukia pulled a package from behind her back. "Surprise! Matsumoto was trying to bring it to you. I think it's from _him_!"

Karin looked at the gift. "What could it be?" What would Hitsugaya-taichou be sending her? She hadn't heard from him since he'd left her in that cell all those weeks ago.

"How should I know? Open it!" Rukia demanded, bouncing on her heels like a little girl.

Karin laughed and followed orders. She pulled off the ribbon and opened the box to find a fan, a smaller box, and a note. She picked up the fan, turning it this way and that. It was old, but well cared for. Why had he sent it to her?

Rukia reached into the box and pulled out the note. "_Dear Karin_," she read. "_We weren't given a chance to exchange engagement gifts, but I wanted you to have these for the wedding. The fan is a gift from my grandmother, the one she wore it in her own wedding. She is too weak to attend the ceremony, but she sends her best and hopes to meet you soon_."

Karin stroked the fan. "Wow. That's really nice of her."

Rukia smiled, helping her tuck it into the back of her obi. "She's welcoming you to the family!"

That's right, she was joining a new family. She was going to be a Hitsugaya now, and Toushirou's family would be hers.

"I wonder what's in the other box," she said.

"Hold on, there's more," Rukia replied, digging the note back out. "_The other gift speaks for itself. Sincerely, Hitsugaya Toushirou._ Hmm, I wonder what that means."

Karin didn't reply, because she was trying to keep from crying and ruining her makeup and being forced to sit torturously still for hours while the elders redid it. Because she'd already opened the box, and found a pair of three-stone dangly diamond earrings.

"Earrings?"

"They are—were—my mother's," Karin choked out, lifting them out of the box. "How did he get them?"

Rukia's eyes flashed to hers. "Ichigo," she said.

"Ichi-nii," Karin whispered at the same time. "Toushirou must have brought them back from the living world." She closed her fist around the jewelry, blinking back the tears. It meant her family knew about the wedding, and they were okay with it. They were giving her their blessing. "Something from his family, something from mine."

"It's very poetic."

It was _thoughtful_, that's what it was. She put them on, smiling as she shook her head and felt them jiggle. It wasn't as good as having her family around her, but it was something.

"Perfect," Rukia declared.

A cold baritone interrupted them. "Not quite."

They both jumped as Byakuya strolled into the room, cutting a striking figure in his formal wear. "Nii-sama!" Rukia squeaked.

"The Kuchiki clan has its own gifts to present."

Karin shook her head. "But you've already done so much! I couldn't—"

His gaze leveled on hers. "Nonsense. We take care of our own." He pulled out a golden comb adorned with diamonds and rubies and slid it into her hair. "Hisana wore this at our wedding." He glanced at Rukia. "There is another, that I will give to you on your wedding day. But she would have wanted Karin to wear this one."

Rukia nodded, tears shining in her eyes.

He stepped back into the hallway and came back with a garment draped over his arm. He held it up, and she saw that it was an over kimono made of a beautiful red and gold brocade, embroidered with countless birds, flowers, and other symbols of luck and fertility.

"It's beautiful," she sighed, staring at it. It definitely rivaled the white one she was already wearing, which she hadn't thought to be possible. "But—"

"This garment has been worn by every Kuchiki bride on her wedding day for generations. You will change into it for the reception."

Karin gaped at him. "But I'm not a Kuchiki!"

"You are today!" Rukia replied, grinning.

A Kurosaki, a Kuchiki, and a Hitsugaya. A moment ago she'd been family-less, and now she belonged to three.

Maybe she wasn't so alone after all.

* * *

Toushirou glared at his fukutaichou, waiting for her to leave the room so he could change.

"But Taichou, I want to help!" she whined, holding up his hakama. "I'm your fukutaichou, so it's like my _job_!"

He snatched the pants away. "Go help Karin, then. I'm not getting dressed with you in the room!"

She crossed her arms and huffed. "I tried! They wouldn't even let me into the manor. Like I'm a thief or something! But that's okay, because I can still help you, Taichou!"

"No." He paused, then said, "you were able to deliver the gift?"

She nodded, turning serious. "I gave it to Rukia, who promised to give it to her. I would have delivered it myself but, like I said, they wouldn't let me in."

Toushirou wished _he'd_ never let her in. "Good. Now leave, Matsumoto. If you go now, I won't kick you out of the wedding."

"But Taichoooouuu—"

"MATSUMOTO!"

She grumbled, but she left. He smirked at her antics as he dressed himself in the traditional wedding garb. His life was never boring, and adding Karin to the mix could only make it more complicated. But, although he'd never admit it, he liked it that way. Sometimes he thought Matsumoto and Momo were the only things keeping him from turning into Byakuya. People had always found him cold and a little off-putting. And while he wanted to be seen as serious, hard-working, and capable, he didn't want to turn into a statue. Matsumoto and Momo kept him human, and he was confident Karin would do the same.

An hour later, as he stood in front of the shrine watching his bride walk toward him, he wasn't so sure. Was that even Karin? The creature walking toward him was silent, her eyes downcast. She looked like a figurine—she could be anyone. She was so shrouded in fabric the only part of _her_ he could see was a tiny triangle of her face peeking out from under her moon-shaped veil. And that face was painted up like a doll's, such that he couldn't even make out her features.

"Karin?" he whispered, glancing up at her out of the corner of his eye as she came to stand next to him.

She looked at him for the first time and her eyes went wide as they took in his outfit. "Y-yes?"

He snorted. "Just checking." He was about to say more, to ask if she was all right and ready to go through with this, but then the ceremony was starting and there was no more time for speaking.

As they turned toward the altar to begin, he heard Matsumoto giggle and Ukitake shush her. "But they're so _white_!" she hissed, laughing again.

Toushirou snorted too, picturing how they must look, him with his white hair and her with her white . . . everything else. If they got stuck in a blizzard, no one would ever find them.

They performed the traditional three times three drinking of sake, and then the ritual was mirrored by their families—or at least the people standing in for their families—Matsumoto and Ukitake on his side, Byakuya and Byakuya's aunt, he thought her name might be Chiyo, on Karin's side. Toushirou had a momentary thought that Kurosaki Ichigo would go postal if he heard about Karin being made an honorary Kuchiki, and decided to be sure and tell him the next time they met.

And then the ceremony was over, and they were walking away hand-in-hand to the sound of applause. He started to speak to his bride—no, his wife—but she was quickly swept away by the Kuchiki elder, presumably to change, and he watched her go before Ukitake and Matsumoto tackled him and dragged him off to the reception location.

* * *

They met again an hour later, on the grounds of Kuchiki manor where the reception was being held. Even Toushirou could admit it was beautiful with all of the cherry trees in bloom, and he smiled slightly as Rukia tucked a flower in Karin's now-uncovered hair. A light breeze sent the scent of cherry blossoms their way, and contentment stole through him.

He could see her face now, without the veil, but he still couldn't be sure it was her. He wouldn't be sure until a) she took the makeup off, which wouldn't happen until all was said and done and they'd retreated to his—now their—home for the night, or b) she got into an argument with him. Since he didn't want to wait to ensure he'd married the right person, he was voting for option b. Unfortunately, he couldn't seem to get close enough to speak more than a word before they were interrupted.

It seemed all of the Seireitei had turned out for the occasion, after all, it wasn't often that anyone got married, let alone a taichou. So he spent most of the time introducing his bride to the various officers in the Gotei 13 and listening to them greet her with thinly veiled hostility (from Soi Fon), full-on innuendo (from Kyouraku), and everything in between. Karin, for her part, seemed to take everything in stride, reacting graciously and most of all, quietly, to the various greetings. He was almost positive it wasn't really her.

They slipped away from Kurotsuchi (finally!), and Toushirou took Karin's arm and led her to a bench set under the trees. He'd just opened his mouth to confront her when Yamamoto approached them. Toushirou sighed. Had it been anyone else, he just would have glared and demanded that they leave them alone, but it had to be the one person he couldn't do that to.

"Soutaichou," he greeted, bowing slightly, "may I present Kurosaki Karin, my bride."

"Kurosaki Karin," the old man rumbled, "it is a pleasure to meet you. I do hope marriage will settle you down and we won't see many more escapades like last month's?"

"Not _many_," she replied with a placid smile. Toushirou almost lost control of his expression. There was the snark he was looking for. Maybe it was her after all.

When the Soutaichou finally left, Unohana and her lieutenant were making their way over, and he wondered if he'd ever have a chance to speak with his wife.

Well, besides the rest of his life.

* * *

At the end of the day, Karin reflected on how odd it was that the wedding had passed in an instant, but the reception had dragged on—mostly because Karin spent the whole time being introduced to important person after important person who she wouldn't recognize or remember the next time she saw them. Normally she'd be screwed because each of them, having only to meet one person, would remember her. However, there was no way they would recognize her without all of that gunk on her face, so for once she was in luck. But that only made the introductions that much more redundant.

She had noticed over the course of the day that Toushirou was growing frustrated, too. She wasn't sure why, unless it was that he was getting tired and ready to move on with the rest of the evening. She certainly didn't share his sense of urgency.

Apparently, only fools like Karin thought the wedding rituals ended with the reception. (Un)fortunately, the Kuchiki elders had quickly set her straight. That morning, after Byakuya and Rukia had left her to finish dressing, and before the ceremony, her mentor had returned for one last lesson. The traditional wedding day lesson.

Consummation.

They almost hadn't been able to get Karin down the aisle after that.

And that was why, because the elders had worried (and rightly so) that she would not lie still and submit, the elders had reverted to the old custom of "swaddling," and Karin was now lying on her husband's bed, arms pinned to her sides, wrapped from head to toe in heavy cloth. She couldn't move, she could barely breathe, and she couldn't yell for help because she'd been _gagged_.

It was strange how one's mind worked in such a situation. She was lying there, helpless, _on his bed_, and any moment he was going to come in and have his wicked way with her, whatever that might entail—okay, so she understood the mechanics, but she couldn't quite imagine Toushirou doing that—and all she could think about was how much her nose itched. And how, no matter how much she tried, she couldn't find a way to scratch it.

And then, miraculously, the itch disappeared when she heard light footsteps and the slamming of the door.

"Karin?" her husband—her _husband_—called as he entered the bedroom. He didn't look toward the bed, but walked straight to the closet and began to take off his jacket. He had his hands on the ties to his hakama when she decided she'd better do something. She tried yelling, but the sound was so muffled even she could barely hear it. So she thrashed, throwing her body from side to side, and eventually making the bed creak.

He whirled around, one hand on a sword he had pulled out of nowhere, and spotted her lying there.

"Karin?" he asked, sheathing the sword and walking toward her. He pulled back the top layer of material that had been obscuring most of her face. "What happened to you? Were you robbed?"

He kept unwrapping, and she started screaming "Stop!" through her gag. It came out more like "Mmmpfh!" but it drew his attention anyway. He pulled the gag out of her mouth and she swallowed a few times, trying to get the taste of the material out of her mouth. "Stop!" she repeated, as he rolled her across the bed, continuing to unwrap the material.

"Why? Who did this to you?"

She blushed, wishing for once he would just listen without the need for an explanation. "The elders. And because I'm not wearing anything underneath!"

"Oh!" he shot back like he'd been struck by lightning. "Why?"

"Because they thought I might not lay still and be submissive enough."

He snorted. "So they thought they'd tie you to the bed posts?

"Something like that."

"But wouldn't I have to untie you anyway, and then you could still do those things?"

"I didn't say it was a _good_ plan."

He smiled at her. She gaped, having never seen him smile before. It lit up his whole face, giving him an almost boyish appearance, and she felt something tighten in her belly as she stared up into striking blue-green eyes, one partially obscured by a stubborn lock of silky white hair. Oh, her school-girl crush was definitely still alive and well!

"What?" she demanded, self-conscious.

"It _is_ you."

"Huh?"

"I can tell now, without the makeup. I wasn't sure before."

She smiled at that, too, in spite of herself. "Neither was I. But it's me."

"Good." He walked back to the closet and came back with a yukata, which he set down next to her. "Um, can you get the rest of this off on your own?" he asked, pulling at her wrapping.

Her face was on fire. She shimmied back and forth, trying to see how loose it was, but the material was long and they'd really wrapped her up in it. She still couldn't move her arms. "I don't think so," she whispered.

He nodded. "I didn't think so either. Tell me when to stop," he said, then he turned his face away and started unwrapping her again. When he was down to the last layer, she stopped him, and he turned his back so she could cover herself in the yukata.

"Um, Hitsugaya-taichou?" she said hesitantly as she tied garment, "Th-thank you for the pajamas, but Kuchiki-sama was trying to explain consummation to me, and I think that not wearing anything is kind of the whole point of, uh, _that_."

At the word "consummation," his eyes went wide. Then he smirked. "Ah, is that why you've been acting so weird all day? Don't worry, Kurosaki—"

"I think it's Hitsugaya, now," she interrupted in a whisper.

He choked back a laugh. "I guess it is. Well, if I call you Hitsugaya, I'll feel like I'm talking to myself—I'm the only Hitsugaya I've ever known. How about I call you Karin, instead?"

"Okay."

"Good. As I was saying, don't worry, Karin, because we're not consummating anything."

He didn't want to consummate? But marriages were _always_ consummated! Chiyo had said so.

"But—" she snapped her mouth shut. This was a good thing. It was wise not to argue about good things, at least that's what Yuzu always used to say. But she couldn't help but wonder why he didn't want her. Was she not pretty enough? His subordinate was plenty pretty, and very womanly, very unlike Karin. Did he like women like that? Should she try to be more like that, to please him? She completely forgot to listen until she noticed an odd silence. She looked down to see her husband wearing an expectant look.

"Well?" he prompted.

She smiled nervously. "Um, I wasn't listening?"

"Obviously," he said, rolling his eyes. "I was just explaining that I realize, even if the Soutaichou doesn't, that you're only seventeen, and that that age means something much different in the Living World today than it used to. Besides, this is a marriage of convenience. This is all to say that you needn't worry about inappropriate advances on my behalf."

"Huh?"

He sighed. She felt bad immediately, because her not understanding was inconveniencing him, and already she was breaking her vow never to be a burden.

He sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him, indicating that she should join him. She did, and he took her hand in his. It marked the first time he had touched her since they had become husband and wife, and she couldn't help the butterflies. "Look, Karin, we didn't have much choice about getting married, and we never really got to talk about it. Are you okay with this?"

She looked down as she lied. "Of course, Hitsugaya-taichou. I am honored to be your wife."

"If you say so," he muttered with narrowed eyes. "Anyway, you're young to get married, and I'm old for you, but appear young for you, and there's nothing romantic between us anyway. So the fact that we're married doesn't really change anything. Do you see?"

_No._ "Yes, yes, I understand now. Thank you for explaining," she mumbled.

"No, you don't," he snapped, eyes flashing. "Don't lie to me." He sighed again, and when he spoke this time, his voice was softer. "We've both had a long day. I think it's better if we talk about this in the morning. For now, suffice it to say that I have no intention of touching you _like that_, now or ever."

He walked over to the closet and, pulling out a futon, began to set it up on the floor a few feet from the bed. Karin walked over to help. Inwardly, she cringed, not looking forward to a lifetime of sleeping on the floor. In fact, the part of her that hadn't been terrified of consummation had been downright excited about sleeping in a bed again after the horrors of Kuchiki Manor. A nice soft bed where no one came in to bang a gong and wake her up once an hour—sleep deprivation really was the cruelest form of punishment.

They finished setting up the spare futon, and she waited patiently (at least on the outside) for him to move so she could lie down.

He furrowed his brow at her. "The bed is yours, Karin. I'll sleep here," he said after a few moments of staring at each other.

She shook her head before she even thought about it. Oh, no, he wouldn't! That would break every vow she'd made to herself about helping him and not being a burden. There was no way she could kick him out of his own bed! "That is not necessary," she began, trying to speak formally so he'd listen to her and take her seriously. "It would not do for a wife to deprive her husband of his bed. I will be quite comfortable on the futon."

"No man makes his bride sleep on a futon! Take the bed!" he shot back.

"But you have an important job and have to be well-rested in the morning!" she argued, her voice rising as she leaned closer to him unconsciously.

"And you need the rest more—you look like you haven't slept in weeks!" he yelled, getting in her face as well.

"Are you calling me ugly?" she shouted, jumping to her feet.

He paused. "N-no," he said carefully, quietly, as he stood up as well. "Of course not. I just don't think it's right to leave my bride with the less comfortable sleeping arrangement."

She sighed. "Well, what are we going to do? I can't let you sleep on the futon, and you won't let me."

"You could just stop arguing and sleep on the bed," he muttered.

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled, rolling her eyes at his last comment. She had a solution, but should she offer it? What would he think of her then? Finally, she suggested, "Why don't we both sleep on the bed? Then neither of us are putting the other out, and it seems big enough."

For a second he looked like he was going to refuse, but then he nodded. "Fine. It will work for now, until I can get us moved to larger quarters and commandeer another bed. But," he narrowed his eyes, "you stay on your side, I'll stay on mine."

She agreed. But then, no matter what they did, they both rolled to the middle. In the end, she was too tired to care, and his body emitted a pleasant coolness, like a nice breeze, so she didn't even get too hot.

As she drifted off to sleep and felt his presence behind her, all she could think was . . .

_I could get used to this_.

* * *

**A/N:**

Updated 5/8/11 to give a more clear sense of the timing of events. No substantive changes made. Next chapter should be up in a day or two!

Thanks for reading, and please review!


	10. Someplace To Go

**Chapter Ten: Someplace To Go**

Toushirou had a hard time falling asleep. Most of that had to do with the fact that, less than a foot away from him, in _his_ bed, wearing _his_ clothes, was _his_ bride. His very appealing bride, he might add. He'd found her intriguing six years ago, but she'd been little more than a girl then. Now, she was still young, but definitely a woman, with curves he found more enticing than he'd anticipated, what with the way Matsumoto's blatant sexuality always left him cold. But he'd processed all that, come to terms with it in the time between first seeing her again and walking into his room that night. He'd been well in control of his desires. Until she'd offered herself to him. And now she was lying there beside him, barely clothed, obviously willing to consummate their marriage—she'd been expecting it, after all. But he couldn't touch. He reminded himself that her expectations weren't the same as her desires. She didn't want him to touch her, she just thought it was her duty to let him. He wasn't desperate or reprehensible enough to take advantage like that. And if he ever faltered, he would just imagine Ichigo's glare—"You did _what_ to my baby sister?"—and the inevitable ass-kicking that would follow. No, Toushirou wouldn't touch her like that. But it didn't make sleeping next to her any easier.

What did was that Karin was looking a little worse for the wear. Small as _he_ was, his clothes were hanging off of her, and when they settled he thought he could make out a few of her ribs through the fabric. Her cheek bones were more prominent than before, and the dark circles under her eyes were new as well. So far, death hadn't been kind to her. She didn't seem to be taking very good care of herself, but, now it was his turn.

She turned over in her sleep, and her face was inches from his. A few strands of hair fell across her nose and she twitched, slapping at them. Toushirou tucked them behind her ear then kissed the top of her head as she snuggled into his chest. He knew he ought to push her away, turn his back, but he held on to her just the same. She was his to protect. So if she wanted to cuddle, he would cuddle. At least he knew what she did in her sleep was honest, not influenced by others' conceptions of duty and tradition.

He fell asleep stroking her hair.

* * *

When Karin woke up, the place was eerily quiet. There was no gong ringing, no yelling, no frantic knocking on her door. She hadn't felt so refreshed since she'd died. Stretching, she sat up and looked around her at the unfamiliar room, noting the dark blue curtains filtering in the light, the simple chest of drawers, nightstand, the western-style bed she was sleeping in. It wasn't much, but a stacks of books on the nightstand and a few picture frames scattered on the dresser kept it from feeling utilitarian. It was a _boy's_ room, that's what it was. She was waking up in a boy's room in a boy's house in a boy's _clothes_, because she'd married . . . a boy.

_Oh, rocket science, Kurosaki_, she mocked herself. Obviously she hadn't married a _girl_. But still, the closest she'd ever been to a boy's room before was her brother's, and he'd always kicked her out immediately. She felt like an interloper, like she was invading her husband's space.

And then reality hit her. She had bigger problems than feeling uncomfortable in her husband's bedroom. She was a wife now, and it was her duty to rise before her husband, to straighten up the house and prepare the morning meal. He'd been next to her when she went to sleep, and he obviously wasn't now. Karin quickly tightened the yukata she was wearing, finger combed her hair, and ran out to the kitchen, an apology already on her lips.

"Sorry I overslept, Hitsugaya-taichou!" she cried, falling to her knees in the doorway to the kitchen.

He was sitting at the table, or at least she thought he was. She could only see his hands and a tuft of white hair; the rest of him was blocked by the newspaper he was holding. He set it down, and she realized he was already dressed for work.

"Good morning," he murmured, taking a sip from his tea cup. "Did you sleep well?"

She nodded. "What can I fix you for breakfast?"

"I've already eaten," he replied, standing up and walking toward her, tea cup in hand. "There's rice on the stove, help yourself, and the kettle's still hot."

She knelt there in shock for a moment. In Soul Society, men weren't supposed make breakfast, or cook at all, or do anything to take care of themselves—Chiyo-sama had said. Karin's heart sank as she realized she was failing him already. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Then she processed what was happening and surged to her feet, deftly removing the cup from his hand and refilling it before he had a chance.

"Thank you," he mumbled, giving her a strange look and heading back to the table. "You should eat, you look thin. You're not on some stupid diet, are you? Matsumoto's always saying she's on some diet or another—I think she just won't admit that even _she_ can't stomach her own cooking—but you don't strike me as girly enough for that nonsense."

Karin didn't take the time to wonder if she should be insulted, because she was too busy drooling over the sheer amount of food in front of her. There was rice, yes, but there was also miso soup, natto, nori, pickles, and even some broiled fish! She hadn't seen so much food since Yuzu had cooked for her! It seemed that ever since she'd come to Soul Society—_what a great euphemism for dying_, she thought—ever since she'd come to Soul Society, she'd been starving. At Miu's, she'd had to scrape by with whatever nuts and berries she could scrape up, and the few meager fish she could catch with her own two hands. And then she'd been imprisoned, and not really fed, and then at the Kuchikis', food had been another form of warfare. Not only had her mentor declared that she was too sturdy, and needed to "fast" to attain the slim, delicate figure befitting a lady, but Chiyo-sama had also used food deprivation as a form of discipline. As a result, Karin hadn't eaten more than the equivalent of a rice ball or two a day for the past month.

She quickly filled her plate, taking care not to take _too_ much—she wouldn't want to appear greedy or become one of those women who _needed_ to diet—and joined Hitsugaya at the table.

Frowning at her, he stood up again. She paused with her chopsticks halfway to her mouth, but he just walked back to the stove, returned, and promptly placed another piece of fish and some more natto on her plate. "I can see already you're going to be trouble."

The words warmed her somehow. Maybe it was the hint of affection in his voice when he said them.

He didn't sit down this time. "Unfortunately," he continued, "I received a butterfly this morning about an urgent problem in the division, so I'll have to go into the office for a little while. I'd hoped to take the next few days off, but taichous don't really get vacations, even for a honeymoon, it seems."

"O-oh."

"Make yourself at home. I'll try to hurry back."

The three feet between them might as well have been a mile. She tamped down the urge to shout something, to shock him, to force them both to acknowledge that they weren't strangers and this awkwardness was new and there was more to _them_ than these roles they'd taken on. She felt like she was moving in slow motion and he was a whirlwind around her, even though he wasn't one to rush about. It was just too much to process.

"No need," she said, finally pulling herself together. "Please don't worry about me; just do what you have to do."

He paused with his hand on the door and repeated, "I'll try to hurry back."

And then she was stuck inside, alone, again. Part of her was relieved, because Toushirou's—Hitsugaya-taichou's—presence reached deep inside her and flicked at the essence of _her_ she'd condensed into that tiny little box. She could be this other person, this wife, with everyone else, but in her heart of hearts, she wanted _him_ to see her. If he forgot about her, who she'd been before, who she really was under this steel-coated facade of passivity and virtue, the girl she used to be might really be gone.

She finished up her meal, washed the dishes, and explored her new prison. Hitsugaya-taichou's house was nice, actually. Very nice. It was all light wood and caramel-colored leather, comfortable and homey and lived in—nothing like the staunch formality of Kuchiki manor. Karin grabbed her tea and curled up on the sofa. If only there was a tv, and noise—lots of noise—and maybe the smell of something cooking in the kitchen, she could close her eyes and pretend she was home.

_This _is_ home now_, she reminded herself. It wasn't a bad thought, not really. She was rested and well-fed, and so far Hitsugaya-taichou had been nothing but kind. A little gruff, maybe, but that was par for the course with him.

She went back to clean herself up, and it wasn't until she was dripping wet from her bath that she realized she had nothing of her own to wear. She didn't own many things to begin with, but the few clothes she had were still at Kuchiki Manor.

She could put Hitsugaya's yukata back on, but the idea of wearing something she'd slept in kind of grossed her out. Maybe he wouldn't mind if she borrowed something else? So she was standing, draped only in a towel, pawing through her husband's closet when she heard the door slam.

_Shit!_ Was he back already? She panicked and threw herself into the closet, shutting the door.

Not her best plan ever.

"Ka-rin-chan! Where are you?"

Especially considering how, from the sounds of it, the person who had come in was not her husband, but his fukutaichou.

Footsteps came closer, and Karin cracked the door. "Matsumoto?" she hissed, peering out.

"Karin?" the woman replied, stopping short and crouching down to be at her level. "Why are you in the closet?"

"Are you the only one here?"

"Yep, just me! Taichou's going to be longer than he expected, so he sent me over to keep you company. Are you playing a game? Ooh, I want to play! Room in there for one more?"

Karin rolled her eyes and opened the door. "I'm not playing a game, I just don't have anything to wear. I didn't want anyone to see me like this."

"Ah, you were worried Taichou would see you and go into a flurry of lust," she said, nodding like that made perfect sense.

"No!" Karin blushed, then busied herself with finding something to wear. She pulled a green yukata out. "Do you think he would mind if I borrowed this?"

"No, but it'd be way too short! It's a men's kimono, so it's short anyway, and then with how tiny Taichou is . . . don't you have any of your own clothes?"

She shook her head. "I only have two yukata I picked up in the Rukongai, and then a formal kimono the Kuchikis gave me, but they're all still in my bag at Kuchiki Manor. I didn't think to bring them with me yesterday."

"Hmmm," Rangiku mused, tapping her chin, mischief sparkling in her eyes. "We better retrieve them, then. Put that on for now. Looks like you and I are going to pay Stuffed Shirt a little visit!"

The fukutaichou pumped her fist in the air, and Karin knew—even without any experience—that that meant trouble.

"And on the way, you can tell me everything—and I mean everything—about last night. Starting with—How was it?"

Karin shrugged. "It was fine."

"And?"

"And what?"

"You can't expect me to live on that! How _was_ he, Karin?"

"Um, fine. He was—" she tried to think of the best way to describe Hitsugaya the night before. She remembered him averting his eyes while he unwrapped her, refusing to let her sleep on the floor. She smiled. "He was nice."

Matsumoto was talking over her though. "I mean, you couldn't expect him to be very good. He doesn't have a lot of experience, or any, really, as far as I know, and these things have to be _learned_ you know. At the same time . . . " she trailed off, tapping a finger to her chin. "He _is_ a prodigy. And all that intensity, brrrr! Plus, Taichou _is_ pretty hot. If he could just let go of his inhibitions . . . ." She shivered. "Well, that's enough of that! Listen to me carrying on. And you wouldn't know good from bad anyway, would you dear? You don't have any more experience than he does. Last night must've been like the blind leading the blind—"

"Matsumoto-san, _what_ are you talking about?" Karin burst in, interrupting her. "No, never mind, don't answer that, I know what you're thinking, and you're way off base! Hitsugaya-taichou and I didn't do anything like that!"

"Oh, Karin-chan, you don't have to pretend!" the older woman admonished. "Everyone knows what couples do on their wedding nights. Now, don't worry, it will get better, I promise. And if you want me to have some of the guys talk to Taichou—"

"N-no, no, everything's fine!" Karin screeched, waving her hands in the air. "Last night was incredible, Hitsugaya-taichou's a great lover! But I'm really shy about it, so don't say anything to anyone, 'kay?"

"You can count on me!" She wouldn't shut up about it the whole way there.

* * *

When they walked up to the gate surrounding Kuchiki Manor, Karin tried to stifle the dread rising up in her throat. Part of her was terrified that Chiyo-sama would find a way to lock her in forever.

It turned out she was locked out.

"NO ADMITTANCE!" the guards yelled at them, crossing their weird pitchfork thingies in front of the gate.

Karin blinked at them, while Matsumoto just sighed and rolled her eyes.

"B-but my stuff is in there," Karin tried to explain, gesturing to the manor. "I'm sure if you would just get one of the Kuchikis, they could clear all this up—"

"We will not disturb the family for such a paltry matter!" the guard on the left snapped. "We have orders to bar admittance to one Matsumoto Rangiku, and anyone accompanying her!"

Karin looked at the fukutaichou, who shrugged and explained. "Stuffed-shirt-taichou came to the Tenth last week to talk to Taichou and didn't even say hello to me! So I called him a prick and he kinda barred me from his estate for a while. Oh, and from the Sixth, too."

Great. "You didn't think to mention this before I came all the way out here wearing this?" Karin hissed, gesturing to the scandalously short yukata she'd put on.

"I . . . forgot?"

"So what do we do now?" Karin asked, following Matsumoto back down the path.

"I guess we forget about getting your stuff, and go buy some new clothes!"

"Matsumoto-san! I can't go to the shops like this!"

"Pshaw! You're the height of fashionable—long legs are all the thing this season!"

"Matsumoto!"

They were out of sight of the gate already.

"Calm down, Karin," Matsumoto muttered, steering her toward the right. "We're just going to sneak in. And then we'll go shopping!"

"Didn't you get caught last time you tried that?"

The redhead blushed. "Well, yes, but only by a family member. And if we run into one of them, we're golden, right? Besides, I didn't have you with me last time, and you managed to sneak into the Seireitei!"

"Yeah, by causing a diversion."

"Oh. I don't think that will work here, there are too many guards. We'll just have to try climbing the fence then."

Karin groaned. Now she was really afraid of getting locked up in Kuchiki Manor—this time in the dungeon.

They creeped along the perimeter, staying out of sight of the guards, until they reached a section that seemed deserted. Karin looked around. "Hey, I know this area," she whispered, recognizing the layout of trees and other vegetation. "We're right outside the family's private garden."

"Score!" Uh-oh, there went another fist pump. "See, I knew you'd come in handy! There shouldn't be any guards around here because stuffed-shirt likes his privacy. This is the place!"

She latched onto the fence and began to climb.

Somehow Karin didn't think it would be quite that easy, but she shrugged and went along with it anyway. Despite her nervousness, this was the most fun she'd had in months!

So they scaled the fence. Karin was almost to the top when Matsumoto swung her leg over, and then disappeared from sight with a squeal.

"Matsumoto! Are you okay?" Karin hissed, torn between going after her and dropping back down to the ground to run for help. The decision was taken away from her when a hand grabbed her arm and yanked her to the other side of the fence, too.

When the stars disappeared from her eyes, she saw six soldiers, dressed in ninja-like clothing that reminded Karin of the Special Forces. And in front of them, was a half-furious, half-amused head of the Kuchiki clan.

"Juubantai fukutaichou Matsumoto Rangiku," he declared in a cold, even voice.

"Rokubantai taichou Kuchiki Byakuya," Matsumoto mocked.

Karin wanted to groan. She just couldn't help but poke the lion, could she?

"Did you think I wouldn't sense your reiatsu as you went slinking around my manor? What do you think you are doing, trying to break in here with this half-dressed ragamuff—" He broke off, giving Karin a double take. "Kurosaki Karin?"

She nodded, unsure if she wanted to giggle or sink through the floor. "Good morning, Kuchiki-sama," she said, giving him a proper bow instead. "Please don't blame Matsumoto-san. She was just trying to help me collect my belongings."

He frowned. "Why didn't you just go to the gate?"

Matsumoto leaned back against the fence, tossing him a cheeky grin. "Oh, we tried. But _somebody_ gave their guards orders not to let me—or anyone _with me_—into the manor."

Byakuya kept his eyes on Karin, but a vein began to tick in his forehead. "They refused you entry?"

"Yes, Kuchiki-sama."

"I'll speak with them. As I said before, you are always welcome here."

Matsumoto snorted. "Some welcome."

"You, however," he continued, turning to the red head, "are not."

"Aww, Kuchiki-taichou, you sure you don't want to reconsider that?" Matsumoto trilled, flipping her hair and sauntering toward him. "I can make it worth your while."

"Positive," he snapped, eyes narrowing. But was it just Karin, or were his eyes twinkling, too?

Byakuya snapped his fingers, and two of the guards grabbed Matsumoto. "Remove her to the front gate."

"Ooh, boys, not so rough!" she teased, struggling. She winked at Byakuya. "You wouldn't really throw me out, would you?"

"If it weren't for Karin, I would dump you back over the fence."

"Mou, and I thought _Taichou_ was cold!"

"Flirting isn't going to work."

She dropped the act. "Then what do you want?"

He turned his back to her. "An apology is customary."

"You're the one who should apologize!"

He didn't respond.

"Fine, I'm sorry you won't _lower_ yourself enough to speak to a _lowly_ fukutaichou!"

He snapped his fingers again, and the guards started dragging her away.

"You'll be sorry!" she screamed.

"You may return when you are."

Karin watched Matsumoto play up getting carted away, moaning and yelling at the same time she was teasing her captors and playing with their hair. She decided the woman didn't need her help, so she turned to Byakuya instead, who was suppressing a grin.

"Enjoying yourself?" she asked him.

"Immensely."

* * *

After Karin changed and retrieved her bag, Matsumoto drug her off to the shops.

"You can't only have two things to wear! Besides, you need nightgowns, and hair care products, and . . . and shoes!"

After a few hours, where Matsumoto pulled her from shop to shop, piling stuff into her arms (only a fraction of which she actually bought), Karin worked up the nerve to ask her a question. When she'd woken up in Soul Society, she'd been dressed in traditional, if tattered, clothing. Complete with old-style undergarments, which mostly consisted of a slip of fabric around her hips and . . . nothing else.

"Um, Matsumoto-san?"

"You don't have to be so formal, you know."

Karin didn't respond.

"But what?" the woman continued.

"Is there some place around here that sells," she lowered her voice, "underwear?"

Matsumoto stopped in her tracks, gasping. "Oh, we forgot all about lingerie! Yes, yes, I'll help you pick out something that'll make Taichou drool!"

"No!" Karin hissed, flushing bright red. "Not lingerie! I just want plain, white cotton underwear."

Matsumoto hugged her, mashing her face into the older woman's breasts. "Oh, Karin-chan, it's okay if you want some sexy lingerie for your lover! You don't have to be shy!"

Karin face-palmed. No wonder Hitsugaya was always yelling at his second. She was impossible.

* * *

As always, things at the office took longer than he'd anticipated, so it was long past dark by the time Toushirou made it home to his wife. He found her fast asleep, curled up on the sofa with her head in a dozing Matsumoto's lap. The two were surrounded by a mess of takeout cartons and shopping bags.

He couldn't help but smirk. He debated waking the women, but they looked comfortable enough. He'd just covered them with a blanket (a delicate task, because he wanted to cover Matsumoto, too, without suffocating Karin), when he heard a rustle.

"Oh, Taichou," Matsumoto murmured, blinking sleepy eyes at him. "We must have fallen asleep."

"I see that," he whispered back. "Are you going home, or do you want to stay?"

She shrugged. "I don't want to bother Karin-chan but, um," she paused, coloring a little.

"What is it?" He wondered what could possibly make his shameless fukutaichou blush.

"I have to go to the bathroom!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course she did. But he kept the snide comments to himself.

"Here, I'll take her," he said instead, intending to scoop Karin up and put her in his bed.

"No!" Matsumoto hissed. "She's a light sleeper, you'll wake her up! You have to take my spot!"

"But—"

"Just switch places with me! I'll only be gone a second, and she'll never know the difference!"

The women in his life were insane. But he was too tired to have a whisper argument, so he just nodded, and held Karin's head up a little as his fukutaichou slid out of the way and he took her place on the couch. Karin didn't stir.

But then Matsumoto went and slammed the bathroom door, and Karin woke with a start, jolting upright and slamming her forehead into his.

"Ow!" she moaned, rubbing her head and falling back into his lap. "Sorry, I—" she broke off, blinking up at him. "Toushirou?" She looked around. "What—what's going on? What are you doing?"

"I was—Matsumoto—" He sighed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Just then Matsumoto came out of the bathroom, wiping her hands on her hakama. "Taichou! Were you taking advantage of Karin-chan in my absence? You ought to be ashamed of yourself," she scolded, wagging her finger at him.

Karin glared at him, crossing her arms. "You were _what_?"

He groaned. It was official. He was never winning an argument again. But there was color on his wife's cheeks and spirit in her voice, so he thought it might just be worth it.

* * *

A/N:

Sorry it was such a long time coming. This one was hard to finish for some reason. Anyway, we're now in to married life, and although the angst is still there, it should be tempered by some humor and burgeoning sexual tension. Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, and review, please!


	11. Watch How Good I'll Fake It

**Chapter Eleven: Watch How Good I'll Fake It**

Toushirou really had to do something about the sleeping arrangements. He'd spent the whole night tossing and turning, trying to pretend like it was Momo in the bed next to him, not that little brat of a girl he'd never been able to get out of his head . . . who wasn't so little any more.

Still a bit of a brat though, he thought, smirking as he sipped his tea and pushed his breakfast around on the plate. Karin was hard to get a read on; timid one moment and aggressive the next. She was also the worst cook he'd ever met—and that was saying something, seeing how he'd spent weeks living with Matsumoto and Inoue. Speaking of Matsumoto, Toushirou eyed the shopping bags sitting on the coffee table with suspicion.

"What did you get out shopping with Matsumoto?" he asked, picking up a bag and starting to look inside. His lieutenant was trouble personified.

Karin came out of nowhere and snatched the bag out of his hands. "Don't look in there!"

Their eyes met and his widened, taking in the near panic in her gaze. "O-okay," he soothed, holding up his hands and stepping back. "Not looking." Yep, trouble.

She blushed. "I'm sorry. It's just some . . . clothes and stuff. We kind of used your credit card," she added, looking guilty. "I tried not to spend too much, though," she reassured him.

But his credit card was . . . . He grabbed his wallet out of his pocket and checked. Sure enough, his Seireitei Express was missing. Matsumoto must have snatched it the prior morning. "Damn. Did you at least get it back from her?"

Karin winced. "Y-yeah, I have it here," she said, offering it to him. "I'm sorry! Matsumoto said it would be okay, but I should have known better—"

And there was the timidity again. What was her deal? "No, it's fine. I shouldn't have run off and left you without emergency _kan_ to begin with. Hold onto it, and use it when you need it. But," he added, eyes narrowing, "don't let Matsumoto have it. Last time she got a hold of it, she enrolled me in a candy of the week club." He shuddered, remembering Ukitake's knowing stares. "I don't even _like_ candy."

"Um, okay," she said, putting the card back in her pocket.

That reminded him, and he fished out the gift he had picked up for her at the office. "Here."

"What is it?"

He blinked at her. "What does it look like? It's a cell phone."

"You guys have cell phones here?"

He was seriously starting to wonder if she'd hit her head at some point since he'd seen her last. "Yes," he said slowly, "I had one in the living world too, remember?"

"Yeah, but—" she broke off, snorting. "I guess I forget sometimes. You guys blended in so well in the living world that I was shocked when I got here and it was like going back in time. So now I'm adjusting to that and losing track of what it was like before. Cell phones just don't really fit in with the whole Soul Society picture, you know?"

She had a point. "We generally only use them in the living world. Mostly we communicate through hell butterflies, which are more efficient, but they can only be used by Shinigami."

"Which I'm not."

"Right. So I'm giving you this, instead."

"But what good is it if no one else has one?"

"We have them, we just don't carry them or turn them on usually," he huffed, patience running thin. "I programmed my number and Matsumoto's into yours, and we'll have them on at all times in case you need something."

She glanced at the phone, then looked over at him. "I . . . Thank you."

Toushirou didn't like the way she seemed so grateful for every little thing any more than the way she apologized all the time. He hadn't gone out of his way for her, at least any more than she ought to expect him to. He'd given her a credit card and a phone, not diamonds and a puppy.

He walked toward the door, then paused, turning back to her. "By the way," he began, biting back a grin, "what's this I've been hearing about me being a great lover?"

Karin froze. "I—I mean, you—well, you see, Matsumoto—" she stammered.

He cut her off, shaking his head. "Have a good day, Karin. Call me if you need me."

Definitely a brat.

* * *

The door closed behind him, and Karin could breathe again. It was like her husband sucked all the air out the room when he was in it. Sometimes it was hard to believe he was the same guy who'd played soccer with her and held her as she died; so much had changed since then. It was a lifetime ago—literally.

Mysterious, intimidating, always walking away—in those ways, he hadn't changed, he was just _more_. Actually, she wasn't sure whether he was more as much as she was finally seeing him clearly, with none of the haze of youth and the assumptions that came with it—like that someone who looked like a kid couldn't be much more than that. Now she saw him, in all his glory, as the Captain of the Tenth Squad who held near god-like status in this world. And she could tell he'd earned it.

She shuddered, the blush still lingering on her skin. Whatever else she knew about him, the potency of those blue-green eyes had always made her head swim.

Cursing Matsumoto (and herself for trusting the gossipmonger), Karin set about her daily chores. She cleaned up the breakfast she'd made—it hadn't been nearly as good as Hitsugaya's, and she'd noticed he hadn't eaten much of it—and took her bags into his bedroom to put them away. It was weird invading his space like this. She considered moving his things to make space for hers in the dresser and closet, but she didn't. She had to remember her place; this wasn't Karakura. She wasn't a newlywed, and even if Toushirou—Hitsugaya-taichou—was treating her kindly, she couldn't fall into a false sense of security with him. She was in Soul Society, where a wife was more property than person. Her job was to serve him. More than that, it was her duty, after all he'd done for her.

So she left her clothes in the bags and cleaned the (already pretty clean) house from top to bottom. And then she cleaned the places she'd missed the first time. When she was confident that every inch of the place was spotless, she sank down on the sofa, spirits plummeting because it was still early in the afternoon and there was nothing left to do. Judging from the night before, she shouldn't start dinner until it got dark, at least, and it wasn't like there was a tv to watch. It would also be too much to hope that Matsumoto would swoop in and drag her off for another adventure.

Karin tried taking a nap, but she wasn't tired. So she looked out the window for a while, watching shinigami come and go on the main drag at the end of the walk. Some walked with purpose, rushing past, and others dawdled, wandering aimlessly—ducking work, probably. A few people going by even looked familiar, and Karin wondered idly how many of her brother's "friends" that she'd met once or twice (and never seen again) had actually been shinigami.

The thought of Ichigo was too painful, and she pulled away from the window, letting the curtain fall back into place. Looking out at where she couldn't be was just an exercise in frustration anyway. This wasn't Kuchiki Manor, she couldn't get away with sneaking around and hoping they wouldn't notice—Karin was here for life (death?), and pissing off her husband wouldn't go so well for her. If he hadn't given her permission to go out, she wouldn't go out. Maybe if she took really good care of him, he'd give her permission. Only time would tell.

Desperate for entertainment, she spotted a bookshelf in the corner and scanned it for something interesting. Surely he wouldn't begrudge her this? She'd been told that men here didn't like their women too educated—by both Gorou and Chiyo-sama—but honestly, her husband seemed more the type to be annoyed by ignorance. He hadn't seemed to care that she was a good student when they'd first met, but she had to stop making that comparison. Things were different then—she hadn't belonged to him, and he'd been on her turf. At the same time, she was dying of boredom. Hoping her instincts were right, she selected a book on shinigami history and curled up on the couch with a cup of tea and a tiny grin. It wasn't soccer and it wasn't tv, but it was the next best thing.

She got so wrapped up in the book she didn't notice the time passing until she heard the snick of the lock. She looked up just in time to see her husband walk through the door. It was twilight already.

He slipped off his shoes and stretched for a long moment before turning toward the living room.

"H-hey," she whispered when those blue-green eyes fixed on her. She blushed, remembering the scene when he had left that morning. He was so intense. She was ridiculously glad that he was back, though. She wasn't used to being alone for so long, and it made her uncomfortable.

"Hello," he replied, walking toward her. His gaze fell on the book in her hands. "Why are you sitting here like that?" he demanded, flicking on the light in the dim room. "Is that my copy of _The First Shinigami_? Where did you find it?"

Oh God, she'd been wrong. She'd thought because Hitsugaya-taichou was so smart he wouldn't mind if his wife was smart, too. Instead, it seemed he was the type who liked his woman ignorant. He must like feeling superior to the people around him. She cursed herself for a fool, and her respect for him dropped a few notches. But then she realized what she'd done, and the trembling set in. Reading was the least of her transgressions—she'd taken the book without asking and been caught lounging around!

"I'm sorry, Hitsugaya-taichou," she burst out, realizing it was true. "I only borrowed the book because I was bored, but then time got away from me! I really did mean to have dinner ready by the time you got home."

She jumped up. "I'll make something quick now." Not that she knew what to make, or really wanted him to watch the disaster that was her in the kitchen.

He caught her arm, then released it when she flinched and thrust the book at him. "Karin, are you all right?"

_No._ She felt like she might cry, stupid as it was, because she'd screwed up already and she depended on him—she couldn't have him mad at her. _Where's your strength now, Kurosaki?_ she asked herself. One tiny mistake and she fell apart.

He tipped her chin down toward him, and the sight of him in full uniform, haori and all, made her even more lost. She remembered the days, not so long ago, when she'd searched endlessly for a glimpse of that green-lined jacket, when the swing of it had made her think of security, safety. Now it just represented authority, power: he had it, and she did not.

She shuddered and he skimmed his palms over her arms.

"Cold?"

She shook her head, still refusing to look in his eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered again, instead, and wondered if, when she looked in the mirror that night, she'd see Miu looking back at her.

He pulled her hair. Hard.

"Ow!" Her eyes shot to his, glaring.

He smirked. "That's better. What are you even apologizing for, anyway? I'm home early, you idiot," he said, gesturing to the sky outside, where the sun was still setting. "And who said you had to make dinner? Grab a coat, we're going out."

She studied him for a moment, wondering if maybe she hadn't messed up. He didn't seem mad. Then she noticed the tension in his jaw, and her heart sank. He was covering for her incompetencies again, being nice, when really all he'd wanted after working all day was to come home to dinner on the stove and a wife kneeling, ready to serve him. One who'd spent her free time meditating or practicing her cooking skills or thinking up new ways to make his life easier, instead of lazing about on the couch reading his books. _Learning_.

She threw him a false smile and turned toward the bedroom. He caught her wrist again, his grip light, and she managed not to flinch—she wanted to believe that he wouldn't hit her, no matter how angry he got, but part of her just couldn't let Chiyo-sama's lessons go: she'd said time and again that every husband punished his wife with his fists at least once. What Karin knew of Hitsugaya, she knew from her world, when he'd seemed like any other (ridiculously cool) boy her age, not some battle-hardened captain from an alternate universe that was stuck in the middle ages. The boy she knew wouldn't raise a hand to her, but that boy didn't really exist. And she didn't know this man in his place, not really.

When she glanced over her shoulder at him, he shoved something into her hands. "Keep it," he told her. "I've read it three times anyway."

Her eyes jumped from the book to his face and back, and this time she couldn't keep the hope down.

* * *

Toushirou knew she thought he was mad about something. For the life of him, though, he couldn't figure out what. He supposed he'd been harsh with his questions, but she'd surprised him, peering out from the dark like that. He'd almost reached for his sword.

She came back out with a jacket on, and he opened the door for her. He'd take her to a ramen place around the corner, get her something that felt more like home.

"I didn't know you liked to read," he chatted as they walked. Something to break the silence.

She was quiet for a moment. "Is that a problem?"

"Of course not," he replied, giving her a funny look. "I was more expecting to find you out somewhere kicking a ball around, is all."

She stopped. "Y-you don't mind if I go outside when you're not there?"

He blinked at her. _Why would I mind?_ He thought about it. "The Seireitei is pretty safe. The most you have to worry about is getting hit on, but I'm sure you can handle it. Worse comes to worse, ask them for help finding me; I'm sure that'll shut 'em up," he said with a frown.

"Th-thank you!" she burst out, hugging him.

"C'mon, c'mon, I'm hungry," he griped, rolling his eyes and cursing women and their touchy-feely tendencies.

But at least she wasn't flinching anymore.

* * *

Karin was sure someone had forgotten to give Hitsugaya-taichou the rulebook on being a husband. He wasn't acting at all like she'd been taught to expect. Well, she wasn't going to set him straight. If he was fine with her reading and going outside and not having dinner on the table when he got home from work, who was she to complain?

She stepped back from her spontaneous hug, blushing. She shouldn't have invaded his personal space without permission, but she was so happy she just couldn't help herself. Besides, the Kurosakis were a physical family. Sure, it was punches and kicks more often than hugs, but that didn't mean she wasn't missing the constant contact.

"I'm sorr—" she started, but he clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Don't say it," he growled, tugging her forward. "I'm ready to ban that word from your vocabulary."

Hitsugaya, she decided, was not a conventional man.

* * *

Days went by, blending together, and Toushirou couldn't figure out what was going on. All Karin did was clean all the time, bow and kneel and cook (poorly) and apologize and thank him for the stupidest little things. He also noticed that, no matter what he said, she wouldn't disagree. The first time he noticed it, he'd been distracted and forgotten which day it was.

"Today is Tuesday, right?" he'd asked himself out loud one morning.

"Yes, Hitsugaya-taichou," she'd replied, passing by on another cleaning spree.

It wasn't until mid-day that he realized it was Thursday. Perhaps she'd been just as confused as he was, but he couldn't let it go. He decided to test her.

"Three times seven is twenty-four."

"I—yes, Hitsugaya-taichou."

Maybe math wasn't her thing? After that, figuring it out took on a life of its own. He started saying random nonsense, just to see if she would actually disagree.

"Pigs are better at math than horses."

"Yes, Hitsugaya-taichou."

"Sewing is bad for the ankles."

"Yes, Hitsugaya-taichou."

Yep, she was definitely agreeing with him no matter what. But why, and how far would she go? He stepped up the game, spouting off comments he _knew_ she would object to. Mostly about women. No matter what, the answer was the same.

"Women should stay in the kitchen."

"Yes, Hitsugaya-taichou."

"Women are no good with money."

"Yes, Hitsugaya-taichou."

"Girls can't play soccer."

"Yes, Hitsugaya-taichou."

He'd gaped at her for five minutes after that one. Beyond concerned, he headed over to the Sixth Division headquarters first thing the next morning.

"Hitsugaya-taichou, welcome. What can I do for you?" Byakuya greeted, half-rising from behind his desk. He didn't look surprised to see him.

Toushirou waved off an offer for tea and sank into the visitor's chair. "Tell me everything you know about this bridal training," he said without preamble.

Byakuya sighed. "Frankly, I expected you a week ago."

"We had a bit of an emergency, and I haven't been home much."

"I see."

"Now what the hell did your aunt do to my wife?"

Byakuya told him what he knew. "It's a bit of an outdated practice," he finished.

"Outdated? It's archaic!" Toushirou snapped, giving up all pretense of formality as he paced back and forth in the room. "Why didn't you tell me before now?"

Byakuya sighed. "There was nothing you could have done, Hitsugaya. Yamamoto-soutaichou ordered the training, not you. Although," he continued thoughtfully, "not being a noble himself, it is doubtful even he knew what he was demanding."

Toushioru buried his head in his hands. A whole month of "training" to undo. Training backed up by mild levels of torture. He stared at the whisky decanter on Byakuya's desk and wished he were a drinker.

"Thank you, Kuchiki," he said finally, nodding to the other taichou. "I owe you one."

The stately façade cracked for an instant, and Byakuya nodded to him. "Good luck. You will need it."

"Hisana . . . ?"

"Yes."

_Damn._ "How long did it take?"

"Years."

Toushirou couldn't take years of this. When he left the Sixth, he didn't go to the office, but home instead. Karin wasn't there, so he sat down on the sofa to wait. Trying to figure out what the hell to say to fix this.

* * *

Even with Hitsugaya-taichou's permission, Karin hadn't dared to go outside much. But she'd finally cracked and sought out a shop that sold sporting goods. She was walking in the door to her husband's house, tossing the closest thing she could find to a soccer ball from hand to hand, when she stopped short. The ball crashed to the floor, where it bounced and rolled into the kitchen.

"H-hitsugaya-taichou," she stuttered, seeing him sitting on the couch, watching her.

"Why did you start calling me that?" His voice was sharp, demanding.

"Wha—" His title. He was talking about his title, she realized. "I—"

"It was while you were at Kuchiki Manor, wasn't it." It didn't sound like a question.

"Yes," she confirmed, anyway.

"And that's where you learned to apologize all the time, too, isn't it? And to pretend like you agree with everything I say, even if you don't?"

"I—" She sighed. Where was this coming from? "Yes, Hitsugaya-taichou."

"Stop it. You've called me Toushirou from the moment you met me, and there's no reason to be more formal now that we're actually related."

She stared at him, bewildered. He sounded angry, yet he was granting her concessions all over the place. What could he be thinking? "Thank you."

"It's not a gift. Don't thank me." He paused for a second. "They told you that you weren't allowed to read or go outside, didn't they?"

"I—"

"Don't bother answering. It's written all over your face and I already know anyway."

God, he'd finally picked up a copy of that husband manual, hadn't he? "I'm sorry, Hits—Toushirou," she whispered, bowing her head. "I should have said something when you told me I could do those things."

"Will you stop apologizing?" he shouted. His face was bright red, his fists clenched by his sides.

She flinched, backing away. She wondered if he was actually going to hit her.

"What else did they tell you?"

"I—I don't know, lots of things," she gasped, trying to remember. Why was her memory so useless? She knelt in place, hoping it would subconsciously lessen his anger.

He jerked his fingers through his already messy hair, looking back at her with tired eyes. "Karin, I—" he broke off, cocking his head at her. "Karin, are you all right?"

She opened her mouth, but the only thing on her lips was another apology, and he didn't want that. She shook her head. She didn't know what to say.

He was kneeling in front of her in seconds, hands reaching out and pulling back at the last second. He spoke, voice gentler this time. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I'm not mad at you. I'm upset, but not at you. It's not your fault. Understand?"

He was treating her as if she were made of glass, but maybe it was warranted. She hadn't felt so off-balance since . . . well, to be honest, she'd felt off-balance a lot lately. It was getting so that she didn't know _how_ to feel any more.

"I won't go outside any more if you don't want me to," she whispered, trying to appease him.

"That's the opposite of what I want," he replied in a low tone. "Go outside, don't go outside, read, don't read, cook, don't cook, all of it's fine. You don't need my permission for any of that, all right? I don't know what they taught you at that school, but I want you to forget all of it."

Palms closed on her shoulders, turquoise burned into her pupils. "I didn't know what was going on there, Karin, I swear! I didn't choose to send you there, but God, if I'd known what it was like, I would have found a way to get you out of there in a minute, I promise you!"

Fervent eyes begged her to believe him, and she couldn't refuse them.

She'd known that. She'd always known that. Why had she forgotten? "I—then what—I don't know the rules then," she stuttered, hopelessly confused. Karin might not've liked what Chiyo-sama taught her, or the methods used, but it was all she had.

He sighed, standing and pulling her to her feet. "How about this, then? Whenever you want to do something you think you're not supposed to do for some reason, ask me or Matsumoto. Okay?"

She nodded, quirking a hesitant smile. "Okay. Toushirou."

"Good. Well, then, I have work to do."

"O-oh." She'd thought maybe he'd be around awhile. Well, at least she had her ball. She could make an obstacle course in the park she'd seen a few blocks over and get some practice in. But it would have been nice not to be alone.

He studied her for a moment. Then, "C'mon. It's about time you saw the headquarters. Besides, I'm sure Matsumoto's dying for a distraction about now."

"Tha—" she started to thank him, but cut herself off. "That sounds good," she said instead, grinning.

She didn't know up from down right then, but for once, she felt like she'd eventually figure it out. And that maybe she wasn't alone in the process.

* * *

**A/N:**

Thanks for reading, and thanks so much to the loyal reviewers out there! This fic is past 150 reviews, and I'm on cloud nine! You guys make updating worth it, and you remind me that I love this story, even when it's driving me insane because the characters and the plot just won't mesh. You guys rock.

3 bandgirlz

P.S: Don't forget to review! Oh, and this chapter's title comes from Hot Chelle Rae's _Tonight Tonight_, which is just about the cheesiest white-boy-band retro 90s pop thing I've ever heard (LFO, anyone?). And I love it.


	12. Lost Sight, Couldn't See

**Chapter Twelve: Lost Sight, Couldn't See**

The change was evident even in the way she walked. Head bowed, shoulders rounded, nothing like the strut of the cocky, confident girl he'd met in the living world.

Soul Society took its toll on everyone—Rukongai was a rough place.

But this had happened in the Seireitei, and he'd led her to it.

It was his fault.

Resolution to fix it burned through his veins. He didn't know how, or how long it would take, or whether it could even be done, but he'd put her back the way she was. She wasn't broken. Only confused, only scarred. He had to believe that.

It had taken Byakuya _years_ to undo the damage. Years, and he had all the benefits of physical cues—hugging, kissing, caressing, making love, showing his wife with his body that he accepted her the way she was, not the way she'd been taught to be.

They didn't have that kind of relationship, and he didn't want one with this Karin-shaped doll.

But resolving to fix it was lightyears away from knowing how. Getting someone to relax around him had never been the goal. He wasn't one to make a joke, to lessen the tension. He didn't usually try to ramp it up, either, but putting people at ease wasn't his role.

He knew what they said about him. Cold as ice. Demanding, intense, strict, formal. Everywhere he walked in the Seireitei, unseated shinigami fell on their knees to get out of his way and avoid his wrath. He knew he'd provoked that reaction by constantly barking at Matsumoto and snapping at anyone who didn't use his title, but really, what else was he supposed to do? He didn't yell at his fukutaichou nearly as often as she deserved. And sometimes he thought that demanding to be called Hitsugaya-taichou was the only thing that kept the older shinigami from patting him on the head and calling him "son." Frown a lot, yell occasionally, and suddenly people start throwing themselves at your feet and calling you formal—bright lines, not nuances.

He didn't need all of that. Just respect, just to be in the background, not to have to put on a show and prove himself constantly. He felt most at home at his office, surrounded by his books and papers, right down the hall from his men if there were any problems, with his fukutaichou around for mindless chatter and easy companionship.

So he led Karin to his sanctuary, hoping that something about the place that always made him feel like he could truly be himself would have an impact on her too.

* * *

Karin followed her husband to his office, barely paying attention to the path or the people they met on the way. She was too busy thinking.

She understood what he was trying to tell her—she did. He wanted her to forget Kuchiki Manor, wanted her to do what she'd tried to do from the beginning—tell them all to go to hell, that Hitsugaya-tai—Toushirou—wouldn't care about any of this shit. And she wanted to do it. She did. But that was assuming she even remembered the way she'd been before. Assuming she could find the tiny piece of herself she'd buried deep inside, if it was even still there.

It wasn't like she could just flip a switch and go back to normal. This was normal now.

She was pulled out of her musings as they approached a huge gate with the kanji for "ten" above it.

"Taichou!"

"Hitsugaya-taichou!"

"It's taichou!"

There were shinigami everywhere, and all of them fell to their knees as her husband approached, bowing their heads and greeting him.

"Good afternoon," he said in response. "You remember my wife, Hitsugaya Karin."

"Welcome, Hitsugaya-sama!" they sang, nodding at her, too.

Karin blushed. "Th-thank you. It's nice to meet you all."

As they passed through the gates, her husband cursed. "Matsumoto's been at it again. I keep telling them not to kneel, and she keeps going behind me and undoing it, every time."

Why didn't he want them to kneel?

"Why do you put up with it?" she asked instead, following him into a large building marked "Administrative Headquarters, Tenth Division."

He cocked his head at her. "You've met her. She's never going to change."

That didn't really answer her question. He could always have her replaced, or discipline her, or threaten to do one or both of those things. So why didn't he?

"Oi, Matsumoto, get your lazy ass up!" he called as he slid the door open and walked into a large, brightly lit office.

A head popped up from one of the sofas. "So mean, taichou! I was just resting my head—" she broke off, glancing at Karin, and her eyes lit up. "Taichou, why didn't you say we had company? Welcome to the headquarters, Karin-chan!"

Karin winced as the exuberant fukutaichou picked her up and squeezed her too tight.

"Matsumoto," Hitsugaya said, not missing a beat, "I think Karin would like to breathe."

"O-oh, right!" The blonde blushed, putting Karin down and perching on Hitsugaya's desk as he slid behind it. "But why'd you bring her _here_, taichou? It's so boring! You should take her someplace romantic. Ooh, I know—"

He stood up again, glaring at his fukutaichou. "I'm going to bring us some tea. Matsumoto, I could use your help."

She broke off. "Hai, taichou!"

"I could help," Karin offered, stepping toward them.

Her husband glanced over at her. "We'll just be a minute. Make yourself at home."

She knew a dismissal when she heard one, so she sank down on the couch the busty fukutaichou had abandoned, wondering what to do now. As soon as the door closed behind the pair, she heard Hitsugaya hissing in low tones, the rumble of his voice interrupted periodically by Matsumoto's whining. The noise and the footsteps faded away, and she smiled.

The office felt so much more lived in than their home. He must've spent the bulk of his time there, even before they were married. She glanced around at the paperwork piled on the desks, the books lining the shelves, then, spotting pictures on one of the tables, walked over to get a better view.

There was one of her husband and Matsumoto—he was glaring, she was grinning—as well as a couple of him with another girl, this one with dark hair swept into a bun. Then she saw a photo that made her gasp. She picked it up, looking closer to make sure she wasn't crazy. This one had Hitsugaya and Matsumoto in it, of course, along with several other shinigami she didn't know, including a red-haired guy that looked familiar, and a baldy who looked suspiciously like the one she'd kicked that day she snuck into the Seireitei. But there in the background were Rukia, Orihime, Ishida, Chad, and . . . her brother. She felt a tear snake down her cheek as she traced his idiotic grin with her thumb. _Ichi-nii_.

"Arrgh!" she screamed as a thousand needles pierced her temples, clapping her hands over her head and dropping the frame in the process.

The room disappeared, and she was standing in an unfamiliar street. Everywhere she looked, giant buildings reached up toward a blue sky dotted with fluffy clouds. The place was deserted, empty.

Why did it feel so much like home? As she watched, the world began to tilt, and she slid through the street-turned-slide. She glanced up, and locked gazes with a white-clothed creature with one black horn. Oddly, she wasn't afraid. The creature nodded to her, then disappeared.

A hand clamped down on her shoulder, and the city dissolved, replaced by the walls of the office and her husband's wary gaze. She looked down at her feet, where the photo lay in a sea of broken glass.

"I—I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to break it, I—"

"Shh, it's all right, sweetie. Easily fixed," Matsumoto cooed, wrapping an arm around her and leading her back to the sofa. "Taichou will take care of it, don't worry."

"But the photo!"

Her husband mumbled a few unfamiliar words, and the frame put itself back together again. He slid the photo inside and set it back in place. "Good as new."

He sat down across from her, poured each of them a cup of tea. He looked so tired. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah," she stuttered, sipping her tea. "I'm sorry, I guess it was just a shock. I mean, I knew Ichi-nii was a shinigami, but seeing him in a picture _here_, _now_, I just wasn't expecting it."

Could shock make you delusional?

Her husband and his fukutaichou shared a look. "Karin," Matsumoto began gently, "Ichigo was more than just a shinigami. He's a hero."

"I—I heard that," she whispered, "from Byakuya."

"Stuffed-shirt?"

A vein pulsed in Hitsugaya's temple. "Matsumoto, be nice."

"Sorry, taichou," she replied sheepishly. "I can't help it."

"Try." He took a sip from his own teacup. "What she means is that this won't be the last time you see your brother's picture around the Seireitei. People here think very highly of him."

"Oh." She smiled. "I'm glad."

At least that was one thing she could be sure of.

* * *

_Well, that was a failed experiment_, Toushirou thought as he walked his wife home from the office that evening. If anything, she'd seemed stiffer than ever before.

At least he'd had a chance to bring Matsumoto up to speed.

"May I visit your office again?" she asked as he unlocked the door, startling him into dropping the key.

"Of course," he replied, staring into her eyes as he fumbled. It was the eeriest thing, like looking at a living, breathing mannequin. She went through all the motions, said and did everything right. But there was nothing inside. "Like Matsumoto said, I'm sure it's pretty boring, but you're always welcome."

"Thank—"

"Don't!"

Something flickered behind her eyes then, shock and a hint of hurt. Was that the key? Did he have to use pain to bring her back? That was the only thing he wouldn't do.

They lapsed into more silence, and Toushirou was ready to scream just to break the monotony. He vowed, yet again, to put her back the way she was.

As they got ready for bed, crawling under the covers together, back to back, he tried to ignore the niggling doubt in the back of his head that kept shouting, "what if you can't?"

He blocked it out. If he couldn't he wasn't trying hard enough.

* * *

It had taken everything Rangiku had not to scoop Karin up, hold her tight, and never let go.

Soul Society wasn't a great place for women, everyone knew that. But what was their world coming to, if even her taichou's wife wasn't safe from the crushing tides of conformity and male domination? Hitsugaya couldn't care less about a woman's place in life. Rangiku wished she could say the same for the rest of the shinigami males. She closed her eyes and sent Gin a silent thank you, yet again. So much better to be a soldier in this war than a princess in a tower, waiting to be rescued. Knights in shining armor only carried you from one prison to another.

Leaving the office, she shunpoed faster than ever before, and when she stopped, she stood a hundred yards outside the gates of the Sixth Division.

Her least favorite shinigami had to walk this way to get back to his manor, and although she couldn't corner him at home or at work any more, by God she would get him on the way. It wasn't long before he came over a hill into sight, his absurd hair ornaments shining in the moonlight.*

"Matsumoto-fukutaichou, to what do I owe this displeasure?"

"You bastard!" she growled, too angry to even engage in their habitual war of words.

He raised an eyebrow, looking slightly taken aback. "Should I call the guards?"

"You can't ban me from a public path!"

"No, but I needn't put up with your disrespect, either." He sidestepped her, walking by without so much as a by-your-leave.

"Do you have to ruin everything?" she burst out, watching him walk away.

"What's that?" he spun around, eyes piercing through her like daggers.

"You heard me. You think you're above it all, above _us_ all, by virtue of your birth. But I don't care who you are, you had no right!"

She thought she heard him sigh, and those ever-cold eyes closed for just a moment. The voice that responded was weary. "And what imagined slight have I paid you this time? Did I forget to stare at your chest when you walked by? Did I not kiss the ground you walk upon? Need I remind you that _you_ bow to _me_, Matsumoto-fukutaichou, not I to you?"

His words sliced through her like shards of his zanpaktou, and she should have known better than to get in a sparring match with him, verbal or not. He was ruthless, and he could always put her in her place, remind her that, at her core, she was just a beggar wasting away in the desert, something for him to step over. He'd made that clear years ago.

Rangiku turned to go, disgusted with herself for even trying, even thinking he'd care what she had to say, but she couldn't resist one last shot. "Karin-chan was perfect the way she was," she whispered. She rubbed her arms, guarding against the chill of the night—not his gaze. "Why do you have to break everything that doesn't fit your perfect aristocratic mold?"

He blinked. "I had nothing to do with that."

"But you didn't stop it, either!"

"You should not speak so openly about what is none of your concern."

"Of course she's my concern! She's Ichigo's sister and my taichou's wife! I have more of a right to claim her than a prick like y—" she broke off, struggling, as a hand clamped over her mouth.

"That is enough," Kuchiki snapped, and the world blurred as he shunpoed with her in his grasp.

The stop jarred her just as much, and he shoved her against a wall, locking her wrists on either side of her head. Trapped. Completely surrounded by him.

God, she was an idiot for poking the beast.

"You push me too far," he growled, eyes flashing, and she'd never seen him look so alive. He lowered his head, leered at her, gaze settling on her cleavage. Rangiku gasped. For the first time in her life, she wished she were dressed more modestly. When their eyes met again, his lips were inches from hers. "If you're trying to find out what happens when I lose control, I can promise you, you don't want to know."

Rangiku felt sick. Here he was, cornering her, threatening her, treating her like she was some cheap floozy . . . and he was turning her on. She couldn't leave it like that, couldn't let him win. Had to show she wasn't afraid of him.

"Damn your control, and damn you for hurting innocent people! What I want," she spit out, "is for you to notice that there are people other than you in this world, and they have a right to live in it, too, even if they don't meet your ridiculous standards!"

"I noticed." Those perfect lips descended on hers, pressed, hard, just long enough for her to realize he was kissing her. And then they were gone, and she was free.

He stood a few feet away, giving her his back. "I had nothing to do with Hitsugaya-san's training, and if it were up to me, it never would have happened—to her or Hisana. Now go," he whispered, shoulders heaving, "while I'm still willing to let you."

Rangiku realized the wall she was leaning against was her front door. She bolted inside, flipping the lock behind her, and collapsed into a heap.

He'd shed his precious formality, shared something he didn't have to. She traced her lips.

_What the hell is wrong with you, Kuchiki Byakuya?_

* * *

Karin wanted to curl up in a ball and hide. Why was her husband _watching_ her all the time? Staring, listening, like he was waiting for her to do something, waiting for her to suddenly change into an entirely different person. Had she really changed that much? She was respectful. Obedient, like a wife was supposed to be. Finally, after so many years of putting herself first, she was trying to make other people happy. What was so wrong with that? She was Yuzu, not Miu.

_You're supposed to be _Karin_, not Yuzu_, a voice whispered in the back of her head. Well, they were twins, weren't they? Maybe she'd finally matured enough be just like her sister.

She was trying to change back. She tried to stop bowing and kneeling and apologizing all the time, which she didn't really enjoy anyway, but then she just didn't know what to do. The default had flipped, and now she just felt confused and vaguely empty.

She didn't know what she was supposed to want any more, and she certainly didn't know what she wanted. But she did know what she didn't want—to be alone in the quiet. And so she went back to work with Toushirou every day that week.

She had no idea what Matsumoto was talking about; the office was ten times more interesting than home, with people rushing around everywhere, and all the books to look at and conversations to listen to. Besides, she just liked watching her husband and his fukutaichou interact, their banter both amusing and oddly adorable. She didn't understand their relationship, but part of her just wanted to be near it.

And so she was following Toushirou to work again. This time she'd brought her ball along, at his insistence. He said that if she got bored she could always go kick it around awhile. He didn't seem to understand that she'd have to hike her skirt up to do that, breaking all of Chiyo-sama's rules about modesty and propriety. And even if she wasn't supposed to be following the rules for the sake of following them (whatever that meant), she still didn't want to embarrass her husband or make him look bad. Playing soccer was a nice dream, though. It had been so long since she'd run . . . . Caught up in her thoughts, she didn't notice when Toushirou stopped, and she ran into his back, knocking the ball out of her hands and sending it rolling back the way they'd come.

She turned to chase after it, but he was faster, stopping the ball with his foot and scooping it into his arms. He looked at it, then back at her, and his eyes lit up in amusement.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Deja vu." With that, he dropkicked the ball so that it flew toward her in a graceful arc. She reached out to catch it, but as her fingers made contact, the black and white squares swirled together until all she could see was gray.

* * *

She was back in the city, but it was no longer sideways. Or peaceful. The storm was fierce, the sky obscured by layer after layer of ominous cloud. Lightning flashed as rain fell in sheets, drenching her to the core. Still, she soldiered on, running through the twisting alleys, the unrelenting gloom. A window burst in the mirrored skyscraper to her right, and she screamed as the building shattered like so much broken glass. She ran faster, and as she passed each building, it shook, exploded, crashed to the ground around her. She'd never make it.

But then, there it was, in front of her, a tiny break in the clouds where a trickle of sunlight shone through like a beacon. She picked up the pace, racing through the streets. She tripped, cutting her hand on a shard of mirrored glass, and the red of the blood held her transfixed, the only color in the midst of gray. Shaking herself, she tried to climb to her feet, but the rain made it too slippery. The beacon seemed further away then ever and Karin sat there, defeated, as the street around her filled with rainwater and became a stream. So she began to swim. She swam through the sea of sinking rubble, letting the current carry her forward, and when she was close, she grabbed hold of a light post and pulled herself out of the rising tide, watched as the last building fell and was swept away. And then there was just her, and the rain, and the cloud-break, in the midst of an endless, shallow, sea. She waded through the now-still waters, heading for that circlet of light. The mirrored fragments had collected there, glittering in the feeble light, creating an embankment jutting out above the water's edge. As she stepped onto the island of glass, she saw a tiny box suspended in the air, directly in the center of the circle of light.

The tiny kiss of sunlight warmed her through, and she looked around in awe, realizing the rain didn't fall here, on this tiny island, but all around her the storm still raged. She plucked the box out of thin air, marveling at its craftsmanship. She knew this box intimately. Had forged it in the fires of hell, filled it with her most priceless treasure, and locked it tight against the barraging storm. She reached into her pocket for the key. But as she grasped it, her t-shirt and shorts faded into a white yukata and the key melted, wrapping around the third finger of her left hand and settling there, useless, as a ring.

"Noooo!" she screamed, and the wind picked up, the break in the clouds closing, the rain closing in on her inch by precious, precious inch. This couldn't be the end! She closed her eyes in despair. And then the ring on her finger burned, so she thrust her arm out into the cooling rain, felt the water fill her palm, but where it touched the ring it began to harden. She looked down, and in her hand she held another key, clear as glass, cold as ice. Quickly, before it could melt, she thrust it into the box, turning it when she felt the lock catch. The top of the box swung open. She reached in and—that couldn't be right. Where were the riches, the treasures she'd struggled so hard to preserve? Inside the box was nothing but a match.

But the clouds were still swirling, the light disappearing, the rain closing in. And so she grabbed the match, gasping as the box disintegrated in her hand, and she struck it against the jagged glass she was standing on. Immediately, all the sound was sucked away, and she went deaf as the flame shot into the air, impossibly high, parting the clouds and settling in the sky like the smallest sun. The clouds began to separate, leaving her in a new circle of clear sky and light that grew and grew until it encompassed the entire sea.

The island cracked under her feet and began to reform, the glass flowing like mercury, pushing the water out and then hardening again, until she was standing on a grassy knoll at the edge of a rushing river, a city of mirrored skyscrapers at her back. As the sunlight shone down, reflecting on the surface of the water, a figure rose from the depths. Rather than made of water, it seemed to be composed of the light itself, and Karin had to shade her eyes from it.

"Thank you for freeing me." The voice was young, but beyond that she couldn't tell if it was male or female.

"Who are you?" Karin asked, reaching out to touch the shimmering figure.

"My name is—"

"What?" She couldn't hear past the roaring wind. She took a step closer, forgetting she was on a riverbank. As she sank, icy cold water rushing into her ears, she screamed.

* * *

"Karin. _Karin_!"

When she opened her eyes, all she saw was turquoise. She blinked, and her husband's face took shape in front of her, staring at her with naked concern.

"Is she all right, taichou?"

"I don't know yet," he called over his shoulder, and Karin realized she was lying on the couch in his office with him hovering over her. "Karin, are you okay?"

"H-Hitsugaya-taichou!" she blurted out, sitting up and nearly smacking their foreheads together in the process.

"Toushirou," he muttered, drawing back. "Remember?"

"Toushirou," she repeated, grinning. She looked around. "What happened? Did I fall asleep?"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I must have hit you in the head with your ball. I carried you in here, and we've been trying to wake you up for the past fifteen minutes."

She brushed the hair out of her eyes. "I had the weirdest dream. Wait—you carried me?"

"Yeah."

"Was I heavy?"

He just blinked at her.

She spotted her ball under the table and snatched it, tossing it from hand to hand. She cocked her head at Toushirou.

"Wanna play?"

* * *

A world away, chocolate brown eyes snapped open, trained on the space at the foot of their owner's bed where, for the first time in six years, he could just make out a displacement in the air. He grinned.

"Hello, midget."

* * *

**A/N:**

Okay, this chapter killed me. Bandgirlz is spent. Done. Wasting away. Review, please.

Hypothetical: How many people would stop reading if this went up to an "M"? No underage lemons between Toushirou and Karin, I cross my heart.

*Yes, I know that the things in Byakuya's hair are traditional symbols of nobility. In case you missed it, Matsumoto hates all things noble—she's making fun of them, that's all.

Last scene in honor of _Death & Strawberry 2_. _Bleach_, I love you so, so much.

Playlist: _Candles_ by Hey Monday; _Skyscraper_ by Demi Lovato; _Came Out Swinging_ by The Wonder Years.


	13. Came Out Swinging

**Chapter Ten: Came Out Swinging**

"Wanna play?" Karin asked, grinning at him.

"Huh?" He stared at her, stupidly.

"Play? Ball? Soccer?" She narrowed her eyes at him, bouncing the ball on her knee. "Geez, Toushirou, I thought I was the one who hit my head. C'mon, let's go!" She jumped to her feet and grabbed his hand, tugging on it.

Again, he just stared at it. He couldn't remember the last time she'd touched him on purpose.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, looked from her to Matsumoto to his desk and then back to his wife again. He had work to do, he had a subordinate who would run off on him the moment he looked away, and, most of all, he had a rep to protect. Juubantai Taichou Hitsugaya Toushirou did _not_ play games. At least not in Soul Society.

But she was smiling at him, and her eyes were sparkling. He hadn't seen this much life in her since he'd met her six years ago.

"Oh, go on, Taichou!" Matsumoto chimed in. "I'll take care of things here."

He turned to glare at her, sure she just wanted to mess with him, but her smile held more urging than mischief. _Don__'__t __screw __this __up_, she seemed to beg.

"Okay." On the way out the door he prayed to every higher being he'd ever heard of. _Please __don__'__t __let __anyone __see_.

* * *

"You're going down, Toushirou!"

"Hmmm." He ignored her in favor of throwing the ball up in the air, and when it landed, they both lunged for it. Karin was just a tad closer, so she reached it first, dribbling it past Toushirou toward the makeshift goal of fallen branches and assorted training materials.

He spun around and blocked her, forcing her backward. She faked left, went right, and promptly tripped over the hem of her yukata.

Instead of stealing the ball, Toushirou flashed over and caught her before she hit the ground.

"Damn it!" she griped, letting him settle her back on her feet. She frowned down at her feet. "This is never going to work."

"Giving up already?" he taunted, about to suggest that they go find an extra pair of hakama for her.

"Are you kidding?" She leaned down, and a loud ripping sound echoed in Toushirou's ears.

"What are you—?"

She stood back up, the ragged edge of her yukata hitting right at her knees. She stepped out of the bottom of the garment and threw it toward the edge of the field.

The length of fabric billowed in the breeze.

"Let's try that again!"

He stared a moment, then nodded. What had gotten into her?

This time he got the ball and drove it steadily down the field. He was drawing back his foot to shoot for the goal when Karin swooped in between his legs and stole the ball, running it in the other direction. He pivoted, trying to jump over her head—and got caught up in his haori. Karin was long gone, only turning around with a whoop once she'd shot the ball into the goal.

By that time, he'd already stood back up and brushed himself off. There was no way in hell he was taking off his haori. He was a taichou.

"What's with you, Toushirou?" his wife demanded when she'd made four goals on him, right in a row. "Out of shape?"

"Hardly," he bit out, glowering. It was the stupid jacket that got twisted up in his feet every time they left the ground! He considered tying it up or tucking it into his hakama, but that would just look silly. "Let's go again."

Karin had the ball, was driving it toward her goal, but he was hovering in front, ready to take it any moment. She turned to the side, drawing back her leg, watching for him to swoop under her like she had to him, but he fell back instead, covering the goal.

She grinned at him, evidently confident she could shoot past him, and kicked with all her might, aiming right above his head.

Toushirou sighed in resignation. In the three seconds he had before the ball reached him, he tossed his haori into the wind, turned around, and flipped into the air, catching the ball with his toe and propelling it back toward her.

* * *

Karin gaped at his signature move, flashing back to the day she'd first met him. The most amazing part wasn't the flip, but that he could get the timing exactly right, even thought he had turned away and wasn't watching the ball come toward him. She caught the ball under her foot, stopping its momentum. "Okay, you have _got_ to teach me that."

He sized her up, hands on his hips, looking so strange all in black, like one of his subordinates. "Maybe, but only if you have something acceptable to trade."

_Something __to __trade, __huh?_ She thought about her favorite move. "All right. Let's see how well you can dance, then."

As he watched, she shuffled forward, crossing and crisscrossing her feet, the ball moving seamlessly with her, looking, she knew, like it was tied to her foot with a string. When she was parallel with the goal, she pivoted away from it. With that single turn of her hips, the back of her heel caught the ball and sent it barreling straight into the goal.

He watched her, silently, for a moment. "That's acceptable."

She spent a while showing him the move. He wasn't a pro at the "dance" part, but he had the backheel shot down pat.

He was teaching her how to time the backflip kick when they gained an audience. Well, more of an audience than Matsumoto, who'd been watching the whole time. A cadre of Tenth Squad soldiers who had been walking down the hill stopped to watch their taichou show off—something she bet didn't happen very often.

"Go taichou!" one called as he flipped through the air, and she saw a light flush grace his cheeks.

He was shy? It was too sweet. She called the soldiers down to the field with a wave of her hand, but they only came on Toushirou's reluctant nod. Karin started organizing them into teams. It was time they saw what their taichou could _really_ do.

* * *

Rangiku masked her reiatsu as she hid in the bushes beside the training ground. She'd been dying to see how cute her taichou was playing games with the adorable human girl, especially since she'd missed it the first time, but that wasn't her only reason for being there. She hadn't strayed far from Hitsugaya's side in the last week. That bastard Kuchiki had really gotten to her.

She shuddered as she felt his phantom hands on her again, shoving her against the wall, taking over her body like that. So much dominance, so much force, he'd been a wild thing, untamable. Nothing like the rigid, formal taichou he normally was—butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Was his control really so fierce as to contain all that passion? That his rigidity could be a mask had never occurred to her, and normally she'd be intrigued. No one thrived on a mystery quite like she, and if someone got riled up in the process, all the better. But this time, she was well and truly intimidated. Stuffed shirt had all the power and clout behind him of both a taichou and the head of a noble clan, and she was smart enough to realize when her strength was outclassed. He could rip her to shreds without batting an eye, strong-arm her into anything, and no one who mattered would bat an eyelash afterward, save maybe Hitsugaya-taichou. Kuchiki would escape punishment for anything less than treason.

No, she was going to have to let this one go, play it safe awhile and stay out of his way at all costs.

It would've been a good plan if his reiatsu hadn't been heading right for her.

* * *

Byakuya strode toward the Tenth Squad training grounds, where the glimmer of Matsumoto Rangiku's reiatsu stood out like a beacon. He didn't hurry, but there was purpose in his step. It was time they got a few things straight.

No one could infuriate him like she did. Nothing anyone did ever touched him really, not anymore, so why was she the exception? The spark, the passion, the complete disregard for rank and formality and duty—it should have been distasteful, a complete lack of honor, and yet somehow it wasn't that either. She had her own sense of honor, her own sense of duty, in which status and authority were meaningless. She was everything he'd been raised to abhor, everything he'd taught himself not to be. So why was that envy instead of disgust swirling in his gut each time she opened her mouth?

He'd never had the freedom she tossed around so carelessly, and he never would, so he couldn't afford to want it. She'd been dangling it before him for months now, trolling around to smirk and toss insults his way, and though he mostly ignored her, he could admit to taking a certain amount of pleasure in finishing what she started—banning her from first his estate, then his division, tossing her out of his gardens. But last week she'd gone too far, blaming him for Karin's state like she knew him, like he'd wanted this to happen. He had no love for his aunt's methods, nor their result, but the soutaichou's orders were not to be trifled with. She'd lashed out in her grief, and in doing so, she'd put a solid crack in the wall he'd been building for over a century. He'd snapped, letting her know just who she was messing with. He'd put that wall up for good reason; underneath, he was reckless, impulsive, a virtual slave to his passionate nature.

He'd kissed her, without her consent, declared intentions of courting her that he couldn't back up. It didn't matter; she'd obviously misunderstood, anyway. He'd meant to put her off, but he hadn't meant to scare her. He shouldn't _care_ that he'd scared her, but he did, because as much as he knew he could never have her freedom, seeing it cabined made a part of him die.

She looked over her shoulder now, thought twice before doing what she thought was right, and he couldn't let that be his fault. He'd sat by while Hisana, who'd had one-tenth of the spirit, faded away into placidity, and he'd watched the same tragedy begin to happen with Karin. Never again.

And so he mustered up all of his courage, and he did something he'd sworn never to do.

She shrank back when he approached her.

"What do _you_ want?" Her words were fierce, but the tremble in her voice gave her away.

He bent lightly at the waist. Not too far; never too far. "Matsumoto-fukutaichou, I regret the unease brought on by my prior conduct. Although you may not be my companion of choice, I mean you no ill will and, indeed, as a superior officer, it is my duty to assure your well-being."

He knew better than to expect her to accept his apology graciously, but he thought she'd do more than blink.

"Huh?"

Oh, if only he weren't above rolling his eyes. "I said, I am sorry I scared you, and you have nothing to fear from me."

"What makes you think you scared me?" she blustered, her blonde hair flowing over her face. In a nervous motion, she brushed it away.

"You've been looking over your shoulder all week, you just shrank away when I approached you, and—need I go on?"

The fight drained out of her then, and she turned back to the game taking place on the field. He gave her the out, feeling magnanimous.

"Interesting," he declared instead, watching the young taichou and his wife.

"What now?" She sighed. "I thought you'd left."

"I've never seen Hitsugaya-taichou waste time during the workday before, especially in front of his men. It is unlike him."

"Why don't you set a good example and go back to work then?" she snapped. "Can't you do anything besides judge people and try to suck all of the fun out of life?"

"I believe I just showed I could apologize when warranted."

Matsumoto fell silent again, wincing when her taichou leapt for the ball, almost crashed into his wife, and then twisted in midair to slam his back into the ground with her cradled safely in his arms. He was going to lose if he wasn't willing to let her get hurt, but he didn't seem to care.

Byakuya had considered slipping away (fascinating as this was), when she spoke again. It was so quiet, for a moment he wasn't sure if he'd imagined it.

"Why did you do it?" she whispered, still staring at the field.

It was safer not looking at her. Easier to pretend that the words leaving his mouth would never reach her ears, that he could absolve himself of guilt without paying the price. "I lost control. Your accusation about the Kurosaki girl . . . bothered me. Whether you believe it or not is meaningless, but I would have liked very much to spare her from her training. Though it seems she is recovering quiet well," he admitted, biting back a smile as we watched her kick the ball through her husband's legs, eyes shining and full of life.

"So that's what you're like when you lose control, huh? No wonder you try to avoid it. The sexual harassment charges can't be good for the Kurosaki honor. But I'm sure money makes everything go away." Her voice was hard. Joking, but not entirely.

Ouch. At least she wasn't afraid any more. When was the last time he'd been challenged like this? It was invigorating; addictive. "You have a fondness for speaking of things you know nothing about, Matsumoto-fukutaichou. But to answer your question, to the extent there was one: no, I am not ordinarily given to vulgarity."

"So I'm not the ordinary case, then?"

"I'm not sure there's anything ordinary about you, Matsumoto Rangiku." With that, he shunpoed away.

The way she broke through his shell was dangerous, but he couldn't force himself to do what he must to drive her off. Let the games begin.

* * *

When the game had finally ended, and all the soldiers had returned to their barracks, Karin flopped down on her back in the grass, blinking up at the stars. It was so dark out there. She'd never had such a view in Karakura.

"Toushirou?" she whispered, nudging him in the side.

"Hmmm?"

"Thank—"

"Don't!" he snapped, sitting up and turning his back on her. "I already told you, don't thank—"

She whipped the ball at him. "I can thank you if I want to, so just shut up and accept it!"

His reflexes were quick enough to catch it, but just. He sighed. "I'm sorry, Karin, it's just, are you back now? Is this you, the real you?"

He made it sound so simple. "I don't think I can answer that," she admitted, closing her eyes, picturing Kuchiki Manor. "The experiences we have shape us, and it's not so easy to unravel the threads of fate. I still remember everything I went through during bridal training—"

He snorted at the name and she smiled.

"—and I can't imagine I'll ever forget. I'll never be the same person I was before I had that experience. But I forgot who I was, what I stood for, for a while. I did it on purpose, I _had_ to do it, had to bend so I wouldn't break. I remember now. That's still who I want to be, maybe a little older, wiser, stronger and less naive, but at my core, who I was is who I am." She pulled out a handful of grass, shredding it with her fingers, at a loss for how to make him understand. "So all I can say is, I'm trying."

A cool hand touched hers, fingers tossing the grass away and weaving into hers. "If you need any help," he whispered, "I'm here for you, Karin. You don't need to change for me. I married you to keep you safe, not because I wanted some archaic version of a housewife."

"I know," she said, squeezing his hand. "You're my rescuer, time after time."

"Hmmm." His eyes darkened for a moment, but then he smirked. "If I'd known all I had to do was hit you in the head, I would've done it a long time ago."

Funny thing, she was fairly sure the ball had never touched her head. She let him pull her to her feet and walk her home.

He didn't let go of her hand.

* * *

Ichigo kept his eyes on the foot of his bed. She was there, he knew she was. He couldn't see her really, it was more of a ripple in space than anything, a watery, wavy blob of otherness with no size or shape to provide an outline. Clearly, someone was there. And if it was someone, it was Rukia. Because, while this wasn't the first time he'd seen a blob somewhere, he'd been seeing them here and there for the past week, a moment ago he'd felt a pop, like a cap had shot off from the build-up of pressure, and for the first time in six years he'd felt trickle of reiatsu, overwhelming in its now foreignness. He'd never been very good at tracing reiatsu, but he'd know this one anywhere.

He smiled. "I know you're there, midget. And I know if you're there, you've got to be screaming your head off right now, so I'm just going to get this out of the way from the beginning: I can't hear you. I can't even really see you."

God, what should he say? He'd imagined this moment so many times in the first few years, except in those daydreams, he'd been able to see her face, hear her voice, of course. There were so many things he'd wanted to tell her back then.

So many still, but there wasn't much overlap.

"So, now that you know I can't hear you, you might as well shut up so you can hear me." It was so odd, talking to nothing. He started to wonder if he were just making this all up, dreaming with his eyes wide open, but why now, when so much time had gone by and he'd, in so many ways, moved on? Was it because Karin was gone?

"I guess I—" He broke off, paralyzed by doubt. He couldn't know what the right thing was to say without seeing her face. So he just said what he wanted, and damn the consequences. "God, I've missed you Rukia. I hope you haven't missed me. I hope you've moved on, and you're helping Karin adjust in Soul Society, and this is the first time you've visited me in all these years. You deserve more than that, waiting around for something that might never happen."

He ran a hand through his hair, trembling fingers nearly pulling it out. "I wish I could see your face. You're so beautiful, Rukia. Beautiful and strong, and I wish I could hear you tell me all about what's going on in your life right now. I suppose it's too much to ask that you could get a gigai; Toushirou came to see me in one a couple times, but he's a taichou, and those were extenuating circumstances, right? Soul Society likes to forbid things, that much I remember."

He ran out of steam, finding it hard to hold up a one-sided conversation. "Sure you can't get that gigai?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck. When the blob didn't leave, he knew it was futile. "I guess I can tell you what's going on with me. I'm in university now, studying to be a police officer. I guess you probably thought I'd become a doctor, right, like goat-face and the Ishidas? Nah, Yuzu's gonna be the doctor, she's more suited to it than me. I'm better at destroying than fixing, anyway. And hey, it can't be too surprising, right? I like protecting people."

A stroke of brilliance hit him, and he hurled his pillow toward the foot of the bed. Instead of falling off on the floor, it stopped, knocking into the Rukia Blob and dropping to the bed. He smirked, just imagining the tongue-lashing she was giving him. "You're solid, then. Rukia, come here." He motioned to the spot right next to him as he swung around to sit on the edge of the bed.

He watched the Blob shift, but had to look away because it was too disorienting. It—she—stopped next to him, and he reached his arms out around the shape, feeling them hit mass, and whatever he was touching, he hugged it close, his heart clenching to know it was Rukia in his arms.

"I don't know what caused this, if it's a fluke, or my imagination, or the start of my shinigami powers coming back, but if this is my only chance to do this, I'm not going to waste it."

Clear as day, he felt two arms snake out of the mass and wrap around him.

The moment she touched him, the world went black.

When he opened his eyes, he was lying on a glass-grid floor, a ceiling of glass grids above him. He glanced to the side and saw blue, intermixed with blobs of white that seemed to be flowing . . . up?

He stood up, brushed himself off, gaped at the inner world he hadn't seen in over half a decade. "Zangetsu?" he called out, too afraid to hope.

There, to his left, was a flash of black and white. But as soon as he turned his head, it was gone. He looked around, realized that instead of skyscrapers as far as the eye could see, they were few and far between, the rest of the space open, empty, dead.

"What happened here? Zangetsu, Hollow, anybody here?" He had to be there for a reason, right? Why were they hiding from him?

"Ichigo." The voice was light, young, like the last time he had heard it.

Ichigo spun around and saw Zangetsu as he'd last seen him, a teen with white hair and a black horn. As he watched, his zanpaktou split into two, the old man Zangetsu and an inverted copy of Ichigo himself.

"Zangetsu!" Ichigo burst out, rushing forward. "How—?" Yet again, he didn't know what to say. So much had changed over the years. He'd been not a shinigami substitute six times longer than he ever was one. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I am glad to be back," Zangetsu told him.

"Not quite as worried about me, I see. Don't I at least get a hello?"

Ichigo turned to the white figure with the distorted voice. His hollow had grown, too, changed in the same ways Ichigo had over the years. He'd made peace with this part of himself when he'd gained the final getsuga tenshou. There was no ill will on his side, not any more. "Hello. Long time no see. You're complaining, so you must be all right."

"Can't keep a good hollow down," his copy quipped with a sickening grin.

Ichigo looked from one to the other, then back around his diminished inner world. "Why is this happening now? And why has this place shrunk so much?"

It was the hollow that answered him. "It's not that it's shrunk, but because it has _grown_ that you're now able to come here. For six years this place has been empty."

"Oh. But how—"

"I'll answer your questions, Ichigo, but first you must prove that you're worthy of the answers," Zangetsu interrupted, materializing the shikai form of himself out of thin air. "You already know my name, so that can't test your readiness; we'll have to use a method you're more familiar with, then."

Ichigo looked down at himself. He was wearing a white yukata instead of a shinigami uniform, and he knew without trying that he couldn't materialize Zangetsu in any form.

The real Zangetsu rushed at him, sword in hand. Ichigo ran. "Wait, I don't have a weapon! How am I supposed to fight without—"

"—without me? I don't know, I have never had to. That is the test."

Ichigo looked behind him, where his hollow had plopped down on the side of the building and was lounging on his back, watching the show. "Hey, don't look at me! My turn comes later, if you can survive through this, and I can promise you shouldn't look forward to it."

"None of which matters if I die here, right now!" Ichigo snapped, still running.

Rukia was back in the real world, and he was missing the time with her, stuck here in his inner world. But if he was there, then his reiryoku really was coming back. And maybe next time Rukia came around, he'd be able to hear her voice.

That in mind, he pivoted and started running the other way, back toward his zanpaktou. He didn't know how he could beat him, probably couldn't, but he'd always faced impossible odds. It was nothing new. He'd just forgotten how for a minute, that was all.

* * *

Toushirou sent a butterfly to Matsumoto, telling her to have two of the men bring in a bed for Karin. They couldn't sleep in the same bed anymore, not now that she was back. It just wasn't appropriate. He was going to miss holding her in his arms, but he didn't need to as long as he knew she was herself again.

Matsumoto came with the men, which really wasn't necessary.

"It's through there, boys!" she told them, pointing to the spare room and doing nothing to help them navigate the frame and mattress around the various obstacles in the living room. Typical Matsumoto. Toushirou almost laughed.

"You didn't have to come with them, you know. Especially if you weren't going to help," he teased her. With a straight face and a rough tone, of course. He wasn't getting _that_ soft.

"I know, but I wanted to ask you something while you were in a good mood. Taichou?"

"Hmmm?" he murmured, examining her more closely. Matsumoto sounded much more subdued than normal. Looked it, too.

"I know you're busy—"

Not too busy for her, at least when she was like this. "What is it?"

"I . . . need your help."

He was alert now, one hand reaching for the comfort of Hyourinmaru's hilt, even in his own living room. "What's going on, Matsumoto?"

"I want to get stronger. Taichou . . . will you help me train for bankai?" she asked, biting her lip. She looked like she was just waiting for him to say no and tell her to get the hell out of his house.

"Of course." It was his duty, after all, but he would've done it even if it weren't, if only because this was the first time he could remember her asking for his help. But Matsumoto had never seemed interested in bankai before, not even when they'd been in the middle of a war. "Why now?" Did this have something to do with his getting married to Karin? Did she intend to leave him?

Emotion flickered behind her eyes. Fear? No, not exactly. Just extreme wariness.

"I just need to be stronger, that's all. I need to be able to protect myself."

_Against __what?_ He'd better keep a closer eye on her. They'd always been virtually inseparable, but he'd noticed over the last few days that she'd been sticking even closer than usual. "Are you in trouble, Matsumoto? You know you can—"

"Toushirou?" Karin called, coming out of the bathroom in a yukata, fresh from her shower. "What's going on?"

"Aww, Karin-chan, you're so cute!" His fukutaichou burst out, rushing over to smother her in a hug and effectively ending their conversation.

"Matsumoto, we'll finish this later," he muttered, going to help the men with the bed. He didn't like the feeling that he didn't know what was going on right under his very nose.

* * *

Karin turned over on her side, shifting positions for the sixth time in the last twenty minutes. Here she was on a nice, brand new bed, so why couldn't she get comfortable and fall asleep?

She knew she'd interrupted something between Toushirou and Rangiku earlier. What was going on with them? And could she actually be jealous? She shouldn't be, she'd never wanted to get married in the first place. Besides that, she didn't have a right to be jealous, it wasn't like they were _really_ married. Toushirou had made clear the reasons he'd gone through with it. He was more like her guardian, which was kind of hilarious when she thought about how he was the one who looked like a kid.

She fell asleep imagining him scolding her for breaking curfew.

When she opened her eyes again, she was standing at the edge of a crystal clear lake, a city of skyscrapers at her back.

As she watched, a light danced upon the surface of the water, rising up to form an entity so blindingly bright, Karin was forced to shield her eyes. When the light dimmed, she could see a figure that seemed to be composed entirely of the light, floating on the water. It looked like a child, no older than twelve, with golden hair and hazel eyes that burned like fire. It was a boy. No, a girl. She couldn't tell.

It was the figure from her dream that morning.

"Hiya, Karin."

"How—" How did it know her name? This was _her_ dream, of course the mysterious figure knew her name! "Who are you?"

The child opened its mouth, but no words came out. "I see you still can't hear me. It's too soon, but that's okay. It's enough that you freed me from my prison."

"Prison?" Was this kid the match that had come out of the box?

The child cocked its head at her, holding out a hand. "Come play with me!"

But it was standing on the water! "I—"

"Don't be scared, c'mon!"

She took a step forward and sank into shallow water. Great, now she was wet.

The child laughed at her. "You have to concentrate. Again!"

Shaking her head, wondering if she were losing her mind, Karin sloshed back onto the shore and tried again, this time picturing a ledge under the water, strong enough to bear her weight. She closed her eyes, took a step, and . . . didn't sink. "I did it!"

"You might just have it in you, after all. I was starting to worry." The child took a step closer. "Come 'ere girl, come 'ere! You can do it!"

"I'm not a dog!" she snapped, walking forward. She was so annoyed she didn't even stop to consider what she was doing, to picture a ledge. She just walked. One step away from the crazy light kid, she looked back. "Wow, I'm doing it. I'm actually walking on the water! I—"

"Bad move, never look back." The child floated above her.

"What?" She screamed as she broke through the surface of the water, sinking deep into the bottomless lake.

Karin sat up with a gasp, choking. Drowning, she was—It was just a dream. She stood up and swayed, unable to find her balance. Reaching up, she tapped the water out of her ears.

Just a dream, huh?

She tiptoed through the dark house and eased open the door to her husband's room. He was fast asleep, curled up in one corner of the double bed. She crept up to the bed and crawled in behind him. Immediately he rolled over and pulled her into his arms.

She'd never pegged him for a cuddler.

She relaxed into his grip, feeling safe. Home.

"Mmmm, Karin?" He started to pull away. "What are you—"

"Shut up, Toushirou. Just go back to sleep."

"Are you _wet_?"

"I said, shut up!"

"Mmmm. You shut up," he muttered, his breathing evening out again.

She snuggled back into him, and this time, she had no trouble falling asleep.

* * *

**A/N:**

It's baaaaaack! Sorry it took so long, I didn't have a word of this written last time I posted, and then life, and vacation, and a new job, and Nanowrimo, and okay, I'll stop making excuses now. For those of you who were worried I gave up on this story, I definitely did not. It's in its prime!

While you may have noticed some additional pairings, this is still, at its heart, a HitsuKarin fanfic, and their story takes precedence. Oh, and I've decided not to mess with the rating. It's unfair to do a bait-and-switch to the young-uns, and I'm not gonna be accused of corrupting anyone who wasn't already predisposed. If there's anything M-related that needs to happen, I'll post it as a separate oneshot.

Well, that clears up the old business. As for the new, 254 reviews! You guys rock! I really appreciate all of your support and kind words, thanks so much for all of the encouragement! I hope this chapter was worth the wait!


End file.
